


I’ll Fall, If You Do

by ladyxdaydream



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Community: kakairu, Did I Mention Angst?, Disaster Gays, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Getting Together, Grief, Just thought I’d clear that up, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, lots of swearing, mentions of abuse/abusive relationship, tagged KakaObi because it’s featured but this is NOT a KakaObi fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-01-15 16:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxdaydream/pseuds/ladyxdaydream
Summary: (Prequel to Night At The Aquarium).College was rapidly coming to an end and Iruka had his whole future planned out. Or, well, at least he thought he did. But how could he account for the stranger who would veer him so desperately off course?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters or have any affiliation with the mentioned institutions. 
> 
> —
> 
> I know I said I wouldn’t start posting the prequel until NATA was finished, but I just couldn’t help myself!!! 
> 
> WARNING: yes, kakaobi is in my tags, because, well, it plays a big part in the story BUT my OTP is 100% KakaIru and my writing will reflect that. If you came for kakaobi, this probably isn’t the fic for you. :)
> 
> ENJOY. It’s gonna be a wild ride.

01.

Iruka readjusted his messenger bag, positioning it so it no longer whacked against the back of his legs. Campus on a Saturday felt like a different universe. It was deserted, except for the few students who actually went to the library to study. He was usually one of them, but that’s not where he was headed today.

He opened the door to the Biology building, and climbed the stairs to the second floor, passing mounted busts of various African beasts on his way. Today he, along with the rest of the Zoology Club, were hosting an Animal Enrichment and Training Seminar. Several zookeepers and other wildlife professionals had traveled to the University to give presentations. It was kind of a big deal that he was able to pull this off. Brookfield Zoo and The Shedd Aquarium had both sent representatives, and they were pretty much celebrities in the animal field.

Well, it did help that Iruka had been volunteering at the aquarium ever since he was 12 years old.

“I’ve already tested out the projector. Everything’s hooked up and ready,” Kabuto said, when Iruka walked into the classroom.

“Great,” Iruka replied, setting his bag onto the desk near the podium. “I’m going to plug in my flash drive and make sure it connects.”

Iruka was giving a presentation himself, at the urge of their faculty advisor. He was the top biology student, excelling especially in genetics and evolutionary biology. However, his talk wasn’t going to be on either of those things. He was going to give an overview of conditioning (classical vs operant) and reinforcement (positive vs negative) as a precursor to the day’s discussions.

There was five minutes remaining, until it was scheduled to start. The room had filled up nicely, which was rare for a weekend event that wasn’t mandatory or involved free food.  

A couple of people continued to filter in here and there, as Iruka turned his attention to his notes, scanning them one last time.

He felt confident. He was ready.

“Good afternoon, welcome everybody,” he said. “Thanks for coming. This…”

Iruka faltered as someone walked in the room. The latecomer had silver-gray hair, tucked beneath a backwards baseball cap, clad in a pair of ripped, tight black jeans, and a gray v-neck t-shirt. His wallet chain jingled against his hip as he climbed the stairs to a seat in the back. Iruka watched as he removed his headphones from over his ears, his arms scattered with tattoos, and brought them to rest on his neck.

He cleared his throat.

Shit. He forgot what he was saying.

The stranger looked up at the sound and their eyes met. Iruka promptly noticed a scar running through one of his eyes. For some reason, it made his stomach twist into knots. He’d never met anyone outside of himself, with such a prominent mark.

He gave Iruka a small smile, before sliding further down in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankle, causing Iruka’s gaze to shift to his white converse.

He was easily the hottest guy Iruka had ever seen in his whole gay life.

He swallowed.

 _Think_ , dammit.

He blinked rapidly, before starting to speak again.

“Um, right. My name is Iruka Umino, I’m the President of the Zoology Club here on campus. Today is going to be broken down into three parts. Lectures, a question and answer section with our panel of professionals, and then a hands-on activity where we’ll be building enrichment toys and tools. In my presentation, I’m going to be giving an overview on the different types of animal training and conditioning, as well as ways to reinforce behaviors.”

He paused, flicking his eyes to that stranger in the back, who was staring _right_ at him. He quickly averted his eyes, making a mental note to avoid that guy’s eyes at all costs. It made his brain go frustratingly blurry.

 

—

 

He made it through his presentation without another hiccup, taking a seat in the front to listen to the rest of the talks when he was finished.

The Q & A section went well. People actually asked questions, one of the things Iruka feared. He dreaded that the panelists would have traveled all the way here, only to be faced with a room full of silent students.

They were broken up into groups for the workshop part, based on where they were seated, much to Iruka’s relief. He was spared any embarrassing moments that may have occurred, if he was grouped with that guy in the back. He had been successfully avoiding his gaze, and didn’t want to stop now, not while he was trying to appear professional.

When the workshop was over, he gathered all the enrichment toys together, huddling them in a corner, as they were a donation for the local zoo. He took a seat behind a long folding table scattered with books, tote bags, stickers and other things to purchase, to support various animal-related causes, relieving one of the other club members of her shift.

Iruka saw the attractive stranger approaching the table, minutes after he had sat down. His stomach turned over.

He felt an odd sense of urgency to run out of the room.

“I enjoyed your presentation, especially your critique of Descartes,” the stranger began, “most people forget he equated animals with machines. I don’t want to know all the experiments he did on dogs, before he concluded they couldn’t feel pain. It makes my blood boil.”

“I know what you mean,” Iruka replied shyly, feeling his cheeks flush at the compliment.

Iruka’s eyes landed on the long scar he had noticed earlier, running perpendicular over his left eye. Somehow, it only added to the stranger’s fascinating beauty. It took him a second to realize he’d been gawking. As if to equal things out, the stranger glued his eyes to Iruka’s own scar, cutting parallel through his face.

When the stranger didn’t say anything more, Iruka scrambled to fill the silence.

“W-would you like to buy a pin or a sticker for a dollar? All the proceeds are going to Peoria Zoo,” he tried, still feeling highly embarrassed at whatever just happened between the two of them.

“I don’t support zoos,” he said simply, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

Iruka was taken a back.

_Then why did you come to an event where half of the panel are zookeepers?_

“But what about these t-shirts?” the stranger asked, referring to the stack printed with the zoology club’s logo, the same one Iruka was wearing himself. “Where does that money go?”

“Back into the club.”

“The club you’re President of?” the stranger asked, remembering Iruka’s introductory speech.

“Uh, yes,” Iruka said, getting distracted again by the stranger’s face. This time it was by the piercing that rested below his bottom lip. He tried _not_ to think about what it would feel like to run his tongue across it.

“Well, then that’s something worth supporting,” he said, pulling out his wallet.

_Was that… was he flirting?_

His heart pounded in his chest. The possibility made Iruka’s head spin.

The stranger held out a handful of bills. Iruka took the money, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way his hand shook, and placed it in an envelope.

“What size are you?” Iruka asked nervously, his fingers fumbling at the tags on the shirts. He could feel himself starting to sweat beneath his arms.

“What size do you think I am?” he asked.

Iruka felt his ears burn.

_This guy is either a straight, oblivious idiot, or he knows exactly what he’s doing._

“They run differently, depending on the company that prints them. Give me your best guess,” the guy smirked.

Iruka let his eyes rove over the curves of his arms, and what he knew was a defined chest. He swallowed hard.

“Large.”

“I think you’re right. I’ll take it in black.”

Iruka heard _I’ll take it in back_.

“W-what?” he stammered.

“Black. The color.”

 _Oh my god. Get it together, Iruka_. 

“R-right.”

Iruka handed off the shirt to him, which he snaked around his neck.

“Thanks,” he said, giving him a small, two-finger salute, before walking away.

And just like that, it was over.

Iruka gaped after him, his eyes trailing down to his ass before he could help himself.

What was _that_?

_Did that sexy motherfucker just hit on me, and then leave without even asking for my number?_

He debated going after him but then reconsidered. If that guy was confident enough to flirt with him in front of a room full of people, he would have been confident enough to ask for his number, if he wanted it, right?

Iruka sighed, tucking his hair behind his ear.

_Fucking flirt._

 

—-

 

It had been a week since Iruka first ran into that silver-haired jerk, and he had thought about him every damn day since. Two of his nights had been plagued with dreams about the strangers “size”.

He pulled out a clipboard that had been buried under a stack of binders and papers, having been neglected ever since last week. He brought it to his lap, and opened up his computer, beginning to add the new contacts onto the Zoology club’s mailing list. Something he should have done the day after the event.

His heart stopped.

What if that guys email was on here?

He scanned the list before he remembered he had no idea what his name was.

His head shot up.

He did see Kabuto talking to him, at the end of the lectures.

He dialed his phone.

“Hello?”

“Kabuto, hey. Um, weird question. What was the name of that guy you were talking to last Saturday? After the seminar? With the tattoos?”

“Kakashi. Why?”

Iruka’s eyes zipped down the mailing list.

It was there. In rather neat handwriting.

“Iruka," Kabuto began, skeptically. “You should know, he…”

“Nevermind. I gotta go! Thanks.”

 Iruka hung up.

He ran his fingers over the indentations the pen had made.

_Kakashi._

Just the sound of his name inside his mind, made Iruka’s skin light on fire.

 He opened a new draft, typed in Kakashi’s email, and stared at the blinking cursor.

 What would he even say?

_Hey, you’re hot as hell. I can’t stop thinking about you. Let’s hang out and maybe fuck. Preferably._

 Iruka scoffed at himself. No. He wouldn’t say something as degrading as that. His thoughts shifted in a different direction.

What if he’s not even gay? What if he misread him? What if he’s that… friendly with everyone?

“Ugh,” Iruka groaned, getting up from his desk and going to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, twisting off the top. He leaned back against the counter, his mind going back to the day they met. How Kakashi had turned him into a stuttering idiot. No one had ever done that to him before. Iruka wasn’t one to get self-conscious, _especially_ around men. He was usually the one who made the first move, so why was he hesitating?

He took another sip of his beer.

He had one semester left. If they hadn’t had a class together in three and a half years, the chances of them having one now, were slim to none. What if he never saw Kakashi again?

Fuck it.

He couldn’t ignore this feeling in his gut. It was intuitive. As if… as if he knew Kakashi was going to be important to him. Maybe Kakashi wasn’t gay, or they wouldn’t date, or he didn’t fucking know. All he knew was he had to see him again.

He want back into his room, sat at his desk, and typed out an email.

 

—-

 

Iruka was zoning out in his Chemistry class. He was still depressed over the fact that Kakashi hadn’t answered his email. Or called. Or texted. He had given him his number, when he signed his name. That was over a week ago now. He’d never felt the pang of rejection before, and damn did it sting. He tended to always get what he wanted.

Maybe Kakashi hadn’t read the email? Or it got lost in spam? Or he read his handwriting wrong?

He rolled his eyes at himself.

_Suck it up, Iruka. He’s just not interested. Get over it._

He shoved his books into his bag as the class came to an end, his last one of the day. When he got to his apartment, his roommate was on the couch, eating a bowl of pasta, watching TV.

“Hey,” she said, “if you’re hungry, I left you some.”

“I could eat,” he said, feeling grateful. “Thanks, Kurenai.”

He slung his bag off his shoulder, dropping it into a nearby armchair, before grabbing himself a bowl. He sunk in beside her on the couch.

“Still no word from your mystery boy, I take it?” she asked.

“Ugh, no. I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, feeling sort of childish.

“There’s a self defense class at the rec center tonight. Come with me. It’ll be fun,” she said, slapping her hand on his thigh. “It’ll be a good distraction.”

Iruka sighed.

_Sure, why not._

 

—

 

The room was filled with mostly women, and a few scattered men who seemed to be dragged there by their girlfriends. Iruka was sitting on the mats with Kurenai, towards the back of the room. Whoever the instructor was, was late, Iruka thought, as he glanced at his watch.

No sooner had that thought left his head, when someone walked in the door.

It was that silver-haired sexy bastard.

He crossed to the front of the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kakashi said, placing his backpack and water bottle on the ground.

 _No._ _Way._

“Finding yourself face-to-face with an attacker, is not a pleasant scenario to imagine, but unfortunately, it happens. Luckily, there are things you can do to prepare yourself, if you ever find yourself in that situation.”

Kakashi slipped off his shoes, before continuing.

“Since this is a beginners class, I’m going to start by showing you two basic, super simple exercises you can do at home to build muscle. In order to defend yourself, it’s important to have at least some strength. There’s the dreaded push-up, and the more accessible squat. Weaving them into your day is easy, and requires no extra planning. Commercial during your favorite show? Drop and do ten push-ups. Waiting for your tea to steep? Knock out ten squats,” Kakashi said, before dropping to the floor.

“Form is really important for push-ups,” Kakashi said, rising up into plank position.

“You want your hands _here_ ,” he emphasized, placing his hands beneath his shoulders, “and when you descend, you want to keep your elbows in and your back straight,” Kakashi said, lowering into a perfect push-up, before rising back up.

Iruka bit his lip to prevent him from whimpering at the sight of Kakashi’s flexing arms, which were fully visible, thanks to his tank top.

“I want to see everyone attempt at least three, so I can check your form,” he said, rising to his feet.

Kakashi hadn’t seemed to notice him yet.

Iruka completed his three push-ups, while Kakashi walked between the two lines of people, correcting and adjusting someone here and there. If he had seen Iruka, he made no indication that he did.

_Maybe he doesn’t even remember me, that asshole._

“Great. Now I’m going to demonstrate some possible ways an attacker might approach you, and how you can break their hold. I’ll need a volunteer.”

Iruka glued his eyes to the floor, only to have Kakashi’s socked feet enter his line of vision.

“Iruka, is it?”

Iruka looked up at him.

That smug fucking bastard. He _did_ get my email.

“Yeah,” Iruka responded.

“Would you help me out?” 

“Sure,” he said, as coolly as he could manage, even though he was flailing inside.

He followed him to the front of the room.

Kakashi laid down with his back on the mat, bending his legs at the knee.

“Come straddle me here,” Kakashi said, placing his hands just above his hips.

“W-what?” Iruka asked, mortified.

This rested somewhere between Iruka’s wildest fantasies and worst fucking nightmare.

Kakashi grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. There was nothing Iruka could do but comply, unless he wanted to make a scene.

He rested his weight on Kakashi’s hard abdomen.

“This defense move I’m about to show you is called ‘Bridge, Tree, Climb.’ If your attacker has you pinned like this, and is throwing punches at your face…” Kakashi said, wrapping a hand on each of Iruka’s forearms, mimicking a series of punches, before dropping his arms.

“Your first response is to come up to a bridge,” Kakashi bucked his hips up without warning, sending Iruka toppling forward, his abdomen falling flush against Kakashi’s face, “then you latch onto their waist with all your might, climb up their body,” Kakashi shimmed his body up Iruka’s, his arms never releasing their hold. “Capture an arm and a leg, before using your other arm to propel you over their side and flip your positions.”

In one swift movement, Kakashi had Iruka pinned beneath him.

They held eye contact for a second, as Iruka prayed to _god_ he didn’t pant.

Why did he find this so erotic? What had he done to deserve this?

He willed himself to relax, or he’d get turned on real quick. The last thing he fucking wanted, was for Kakashi to feel him half hard through his track pants.

Kakashi smiled down at him, before getting off and offering his hand to help him up.

Iruka quickly made his way to Kurenai as Kakashi said, “Okay, now you try it. Break off into pairs. I’ll be walking around to help you out.”

“Iruka,” Kurenai hissed as he came back, “is that him?”

Iruka said nothing, which definitely meant yes.

“Oh my _god_. He’s so hot! No wonder you’re so hung up. And I don’t even _like_ men like that,” she said, referring to Kakashi’s tattoos and gauged ears.

Iruka let his hair out of his bun, having been disheveled from his little romp, before tossing it back up again.

“You’re not helping,” he whispered, as he got down on his back to practice the move with Kurenai.

 

—

 

The remaining hour of the class went by quickly. Iruka was called forward by Kakashi once more, which ended with Iruka’s neck trapped between Kakashi’s legs somehow, excruciatingly close to his groin. A move he’d only seen on TV, the type wrestlers immediately tap out of. Iruka would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed.

As he was making to leave, Kakashi called out his name again.

Iruka walked over to him reluctantly.

“You were pretty good,” Kakashi said. “I was watching you.”

_Great_ , Iruka thought, not really in the mood for some straight boy to unintentionally flirt with him.

 “Well, you were a good teacher,” was all Iruka could think of to say, feeling awkward.

“Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

Kurenai had been waiting for Iruka, but at this, she slipped out of the room, leaving them alone.

“I’ve been busy,” he said, vaguely.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Iruka said, eager to get out of this situation as soon as possible. He didn’t care to hear whatever excuse Kakashi would come up with.

Iruka had hit on him. Kakashi wasn’t into it. End of story.

“I will, though.”

Iruka almost told him to forget about it. The last thing he wanted was Kakashi to call him out of pity.

“Well, I won’t hold my breath,” Iruka said instead, a little too sharp. “Thanks for the class.”

He crossed over to the door, not giving Kakashi a chance to reply, and pulled it open.

He hadn’t meant to come off rude, but Kakashi was just _standing_ there, his muscles gleaming with sweat, his hair tousled about, his tank top sticking to his skin like a goddamn glove.

It was too much for him to handle.

He needed to get out of there before he did something incredibly stupid, like slam Kakashi against the mirrored wall in a desperate bruising kiss.

 

-

TBC

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer is back in working condition! Praise Jashin (except not really lmao)!
> 
> Which means, I’ll be uploading super regularly because I almost wrote the whole fic out by hand O.O while I was waiting. 
> 
> I am thrilled by your positive responses so far! 
> 
> Thank you so much! 
> 
> Please enjoy.

02

  
Iruka was reclined in bed, re-reading the Deathly Hallows for the umpteenth time, in anticipation of the second part of the filmʼs release, happening a month from now.

  
Kakashi hadnʼt called. The defense class was two weeks ago now. Iruka was on the brink of finally letting it go, when his phone rang.

  
He glanced at it, not recognizing the number, and debated whether or not to answer it. He usually didnʼt. It tended to be the Red Cross after his blood, or someone wanting his vote in an upcoming election, but for some reason, he did.

  
“Hello?” he answered, rather lazily.

“Iruka. Itʼs Kakashi.”

  
Iruka shot up in bed, his book falling off his chest onto the ground.

  
“Uh, hi. Whatʼs up?”

  
_Whatʼs_ _up_? he cringed, feeling his face flush.

  
“I know itʼs last minute, but Iʼm heading to Peoria. Iʼve got to pick up some supplies. I canʼt promise anything exciting, but itʼd be nice to have company on the long drive. Are you busy?”

  
Irukaʼs heart thumped loudly in his chest. He was supposed to grab take-out and study for a major exam with Kotetsu, in half an hour. But... fuck that.

  
“No,” he lied. “When are you leaving?”

“Now. Iʼm already in the car.”

  
Iruka scrambled off the bed.

  
“Where do you live?”

  
Iruka told him, before they hung up.

  
He whipped open his closet door and pulled out something to replace his t-shirt: a cream colored thermal, with three buttons at the top that he left open. It contrasted nicely against his slim, dark brown pants, and his tan skin.

He ran to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, tossed his hair in a low messy bun, before shoving it under a loose brown beanie. He pulled a few strands of hair out to frame his face, as his phone flashed with a text from Kakashi.

  
He was here.

—

  
All of this was happening so fast, Iruka barely had time to process it. One minute he was about to let Kakashi drop off the face of the earth, and the next he was walking towards his car.

  
Towards _Kakashiʼs_ car.

  
Kakashi was waiting for _him_. In an old, baby blue, pick-up truck.

  
Iruka felt completely disconnected from his body, so it sort of surprised him when he reached the passenger door, and pulled it open.

  
“Yo,” Kakashi said. “I called. I bet you thought I wouldnʼt.”

Iruka swung himself into the seat.

  
“Youʼre right. I didnʼt,” he said, not knowing what else to say, fastening his seatbelt.

  
Kakashi pulled out of the parking lot, shifting gears, as they picked up speed. Iruka struggled to peel his eyes away from the koi fish tattoo on his right arm; It was surrounded by waves, green aquatic plants, and lotus flowers. It started at his wrist, and ended near his elbow. It was done in the traditional Japanese style, completely gorgeous, just like the rest of this man.

  
“So, whatʼs your major?” Kakashi asked jokingly, adding a flare to his voice, knowing it was a stupid small talk question.

  
That was fine, because Iruka was interested in his, and now it gave him an excuse to find out.

  
“Biology, with a specialization in Zoology. You?”

“Psychology. Double minor in Anthropology & Biology.”

  
“Do you want to be a therapist or something? What else do you do with a degree like that?” Iruka teased.

“Yeah, maybe my own,” Kakashi joked, before turning serious. “But no. Iʼd be a terrible therapist. I guess I just wanted to try and better understand how the human mind works.”

  
Iruka heard something heavy laced in his voice, but he couldnʼt quite pin point what it was.

  
“I thought about changing my major halfway through, but almost none of my credits would have transferred, making me graduate a year later. I wasnʼt into that.”

  
“What would you have switched to?”

  
“English Lit. But I donʼt know what Iʼd do with that either. I donʼt want to be a professor.”

  
Iruka was surprised by his response. This sexy ass man liked to read? God help him.

  
“You can browse my iPod if you want,” Kakashi said, reaching over him to grab it out of the glove compartment.

  
Iruka caught a whiff of... cologne? Deodorant? Shampoo? He didnʼt know, but it was musky, and earthy, and kind of spicy, and damn was he into it. It sent his hormones into a frenzy.

  
Kakashi tossed the iPod in his lap. Iruka picked it up and clicked it open, browsing through the artists.

  
Kakashi had a lot of music. He felt like he had been scrolling forever, and he was only on the Dʼs. There were a lot of bands he knew, but just as many he didnʼt. He clicked on the next one he recognized. Fall of Troy.

  
“Nice choice,” Kakashi said. “And you picked _Doppleganger_ , which is either a coincidence, or you really are a fan.”

  
“I saw them when I was a senior in high school at The House in Dekalb. They were amazing live.”

  
“No shit,” Kakashi said, glancing over at him. “I was there too.”

A look passed between. What it said, Iruka wasnʼt sure yet.

“So youʼre from Illinois then?” Iruka asked, trying to release the tension he just felt.

  
“Yup. Palatine. You?”

“Chicago.”

  
“Actual Chicago? Or are you one of those guys who says that, but really lives in a suburb of Chicago like myself?” Kakashi teased.

  
“I hate that,” Iruka laughed.

  
“Good thing I didnʼt do it, then.” Kakashi replied, arching an eyebrow at him.

  
“I grew up in Humboldt Park.”

  
“That makes you a Sox fan, right?”

  
Iruka almost scoffed, before he looked at Kakashiʼs face and saw he was smiling.

  
“I donʼt know shit about sports, really. I was into the Bulls when they were good,” Kakashi said.

  
“And the Bears?”

  
“Fuck football. Unless itʼs _fútbol_.” (soccer)

  
Irukaʼs heart skipped.

  
“ _Hablas_ _español_?” (You speak Spanish?)

  
“Barely. I took a class in high school. But if I had to guess, youʼre fluent.”

  
“ _Sí_ , Iʼm _puertorriqueño_ , _papi_ ,” Iruka replied, making a point to roll his rʼs dramatically, flashing him a brilliant grin.

  
Oh.

  
Well, _that_ sent an unexpected shiver through Kakashi. He tried to pretend that  
Iruka calling him papi didnʼt turn him on.

  
“Show off,” Kakashi teased.

  
A few moments of silence passed by. Iruka readjusted the hat on his head nervously, feeling heat prick at his scalp.

  
“Have you always had long hair?” Kakashi asked, glancing at him.

“Yeah. I popped out of the womb like this.”

  
“Smartass,” Kakashi chuckled.

  
“I had to cut it once, when I was a kid. I wanted dreadlocks so I refused to let my mom brush it, thinking theyʼd form beautifully naturally. Yeah, definitely not. It was a mess. I had to shave my head. It was traumatizing.”

  
There was one other time his hair had been cut, but he wasnʼt about to get into that. Not yet.

  
Kakashi smiled.

  
“I could see you with dreadlocks.”

  
“Nah. Thatʼs way too much maintenance for me.”

  
“Doesnʼt it require a lot of maintenance now? Itʼs pretty long right?” Kakashi assumed.

  
The two times heʼd seen Iruka, it had always been pulled back.

  
Iruka took off his hat and pulled out the tie, letting it cascade over his shoulders in soft, loose waves. It ended just above his navel.

  
Kakashi swallowed, shifting his grip on the steering wheel.

  
Well, if that wasnʼt the most beautiful man heʼd ever seen. _Damn_.

  
“Not much. I just have to condition and brush it, which might be way too much maintenance for most straight men, so I guess itʼs a good thing Iʼm not,” Iruka said, boldly.

  
He wanted to make that clear, in case it wasnʼt.

  
“Hmph,” Kakashi said, letting out a small laugh. “Well, Iʼm not straight either and that still seems like too much maintenance.”

  
“ _Please_ ,” Iruka laughed, trying to ignore the fireworks exploding in his gut at this information, “To get your hair perfectly styled like that, youʼve got to be an expert with product. Thatʼs just a different type of maintenance.”

They shared another one of those looks.

  
\--

  
Iruka was surprised when they pulled into Home Depot. The rest of the hour and a half drive felt like a blink. They never ran out of things to talk about, and even when they did, the silence was comfortable, able it charged, buzzing with whatever was happening between them.

  
Kakashi parked and they both got out, heading inside.

  
“Iʼm here to pick up an order,” Kakashi said, to the woman at the front.

  
She crossed over to the computer.

  
“Name?” she asked.

  
“Kakashi Hatake.”

  
Her fingers clicked on the keyboard.

  
“The cyclone fencing?”

  
“Yep.”

  
“Ok, pull your car up to the front and weʼll bring it around for you.”

  
“Great, thanks. Iʼll be right back,” he said to Iruka, before heading out the sliding glass doors.

  
\--

  
Iruka watched as Kakashi grabbed one of the rolls of fencing with considerable ease. He knew they must be heavy as hell, but Kakashi hauled them up like it was nothing more than a garbage bag full of leaves.

  
Iruka helped load some of the metal poles into the back of the truck, trying not to get in the way.

  
“Whatʼs all this for?” he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“You know that dog shelter on McArthur Street?”

“Yeah.”

  
“I work there, and somehow I managed to convince the guy who owns the overgrown lot next door, to donate it. The dogs could really use a bigger green space. The yard behind the shelter doesnʼt cut it.”

  
Iruka felt like his heart swelled three times its size.

  
“Thatʼs great,” he somehow said, despite the balloon in his chest, as Kakashi swung the last roll of fencing into the truck.

  
“Yeah, Iʼm pretty excited about it,” he said, removing his gloves, before making to get back into the car. Iruka followed suit.

  
“Does your Zoology club do, like, volunteer gigs?” Kakashi asked.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

  
“Weʼre going to work on it this Saturday. The lot needs to be cleaned of garbage and mowed before the fence goes up. I donʼt know if thatʼs something youʼre interested in or if you only concern yourselves with _exotic_ species,” Kakashi teased, “but we could really use the help.”

  
“Sure. Weʼd love to help,” Iruka answered, far too quickly, not coming off as suave as he would have liked.

  
“Do you always make decisions without consulting the rest of your people, Mr. President?”

  
Iruka blushed hard.

  
“I know theyʼd be into it. One of our members has suggested volunteering there before, but we havenʼt gotten around to it yet.”

  
“Great. Itʼs date then,” Kakashi said, starting up the truck. “Are you hungry? Thereʼs this place called One World in town, about ten minutes from here.”

  
Iruka hadnʼt gotten past the word _date_. Completely spacing out on the rest of what Kakashi had just said.

  
“I-Iʼm sorry. What?”

  
Kakashi gave him an odd look.

“I asked if you were hungry. Thereʼs a cool café in town. Itʼs kinda hippyish, but it serves good food thatʼs actually healthy, unlike the diners that line our college town.”

  
Iruka glanced at the clock. It was a little past six. He _should_ be hungry, but if he was, his body gave no indication. It was too preoccupied with other things, like making sure enough blood got pumped to his heart whenever Kakashi looked at him like he was right now.

  
What did Kakashi say again?

Shit.

  
He racked his brain. Um. Good food. Not a diner. Right.

  
“Uh, that sounds good,” he said, finally. “I know what you mean. I never go out to eat around campus. Except, there is that one sushi place next to Family Video. Itʼs pretty good.”

  
“Eh, well, thatʼs a matter of opinion. But I guess itʼs in my blood to biased.”

  
“Youʼre Japanese?”

  
“Through and through,” Kakashi grinned. “A pure blood.”

  
Iruka didnʼt know if that was a Harry Potter reference, but if it _was_ , heʼd probably drop dead. Or propose. Whatever happened first.

  
\--

  
Kakashi was holding the door for Iruka, as they stepped out into the evening air. Iruka was pleasantly stuffed, after a meal of the best falafel heʼd had in a long time. Turns out, he had been exceptionally hungry.

  
“Do you drink coffee?” Kakashi asked, eyeing the Starbucks across the street.

  
“I do. But Iʼm pretty selective about it. I guess itʼs in my blood to be biased,” Iruka teased. “My family grows coffee in Puerto Rico.”

  
“Ah, so youʼre a snob then,” Kakashi joked.

“Essentially.”

“Well, then I wonʼt make you stoop to Starbucks by treating you to a drink. I am, however, going to get one for myself. I could use it for the drive back.”

  
“If youʼre offering, Iʼm not going to refuse.” Iruka flirted.

  
Kakashi smiled at him in a way that was quickly becoming Irukaʼs favorite thing in the entire universe. Instead of it curving at his lips, it showed up in his eyes. Like little crescent moons. Upside down uʼs.

  
“Whatʼs your drink?” Kakashi asked. “Wait. Let me guess. A skinny, tall, vanilla Frappuccino, with whipped cream on top?” Kakashi said, as they crossed the street.

  
“Fuck you,” Iruka laughed, “that sounds like a candid description of _yourself_.”

Kakashiʼs eyebrows shot up in comical surprise, taken aback by Irukaʼs quick wit.

“Damn, well, maybe. Except Iʼm not vanilla. I can promise you that,” he replied.

  
Iruka tried to stop his mind from racing to picture what Kakashi was actually like in the bedroom. It didnʼt work, but he highly doubted it was vanilla.

He promptly ignored the stirring in his groin that was begging for his attention.

  
When they got up to the counter, Kakashi ordered a latte with almond milk, no sugar, before turning to Iruka.

  
“Whatʼll it be?”

  
“Iʼll have whatever your darkest roast is. Black.”

  
“Intense,” Kakashi said, handing over a ten dollar bill to the cashier. “You donʼt fuck around, do you?”

  
_Iʼd_ _be_ _more_ _than_ _happy_ _to_ _fuck_ _around_ _with_ _you_ , he thought but didnʼt say.

Iruka wondered if heʼd regret this. It was already 8:00, but they did have a long  
drive a head of them.

  
Coffee or not, he probably wouldnʼt sleep well tonight anyway. Heʼd be too high off the day heʼs had, which wasnʼt going to do him any favors for his exam early tomorrow morning.

  
At least now, he could blame his jitters on the caffeine, and not the insane amount of endorphins that were swimming through his body, making it hard to move his hands without visibly trembling.

  
As if to prove his point, he nearly spilled his coffee trying to put on the lid, when Kakashiʼs arm brushed against his, grabbing for a paper sleeve.

  
_Diablo_ , he thought. _Have_ _I_ ever _fallen_ _this_ _hard_ , _this_ _fast_? 

The answer was no.

  
He knew it was no.

  
—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just pulled a banana coconut cake out of the oven and I wish I could share it with all of you, to show you how much I love you. 
> 
> Have a wonderful weekend ❤️
> 
> I apologize for any weird formatting. Uploading from my phone causes odd spacing problems when I transfer the document :/


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a nice big chunk of this story typed out now, so I’ll be posting a new chapter every day until I run out/catch up. :D
> 
> I have to admit… this is my least favorite chapter O.o. Not content wise, really. I… I’m not crazy about the writing? Maybe I’m just being exceptionally hard on myself today but… sigh. It does cover some necessary emotions/scenes, though.
> 
> Anyway, I’ll shake it off. Onwards! <3

** 03 ** .

Iruka had managed to corral 5 of his club members to help out at Kakashi’s dog shelter, despite having to be there at 8 in the morning on a Saturday; Kakashi had wanted to get the majority of the work done, before the hot afternoon sun hit. Much to Iruka’s surprise, only one of the students had been hung over from the night before—a freshman, whom Iruka knew was still trying to find his place in the world, the zoology club being part of that experiment.

The day had gone well. If it were up to Iruka though, he would have said to _hell_ with everyone else, leaving him to work alone with Kakashi. But as he couldn’t do that, the two of them didn’t have much time to talk. Six other people had come to volunteer in addition to his club members—a mixture of staff and volunteers from the shelter, and some local people from the town who cared about the cause. The most he could do was steal glances at Kakashi when he could, and come up with an occasional excuse to approach him.

There was one glorious moment, however. A couple of small shrubs were growing along where the fence was supposed to go. After having searched the toolshed for something strong enough to cut through it, Iruka had come across a rusty old machete near the back. He’d found the sharpener in a bucket of nails and had slid it hotly across the blade, revealing a silver, sharp edge in no time.

He had sliced through the thick base of each shrub with two quick, expertly aimed hits.

It had definitely surprised Kakashi. Impressed him, even. Iruka could tell. He went on to explain that a machete was like a second arm to him. He’d been wielding one ever since he was 14 years old. It was the tool of choice in Puerto Rico; the one he used to weed the coffee farm his grandparents owned, when he went there to visit and work.

When they were finished fencing in the lot, Kakashi’s boss had bought pizza for everyone in thanks. They all sat together in the freshly cut grass to eat, sweaty and grimy from a hard day’s work, dogs running around them happily, in their new spacious yard. 

It had been over a week since Iruka had helped at the shelter. This seemed to be some sort of pattern for Kakashi; they’d hang out and then he’d disappear completely, only to unexpectedly resurface sometime later.

They had texted back and forth a few times since then, enough for Iruka to know that Kakashi wasn’t a texter. His answers were short and to the point, except when it came to hanging out with him apparently.

Twice they had made plans, and twice Kakashi cancelled last minute. The second time, Iruka had already been anxiously waiting near the door, shoes on.  So when Iruka touched Kakashi’s name in his contacts list, he knew the chances of him answering weren’t high. Regardless of his low expectations, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed when the automated voicemail greeted him.

He shoved his phone in his pocket and contemplated what to do next.

“Fuck it,” he cursed out loud to himself.

He’d made the decision already and wasn’t about to back out, even if it meant going alone. It was something he’d wanted to do for a long time, and some flaky, able it painfully attractive guy, wasn’t going to stop him. 

 

\--

 

Just as he was pulling the door open to the shop, his phone rang.

He pulled it out to see Kakashi’s name dance across the screen.

A rush of adrenaline flew through his body, followed by a bout of nerves. He dropped his hand from the door handle and picked it up.

“H-hello?”

“Iruka,” Kakashi said.

He flushed at the sound of Kakashi’s voice saying his name _right_ against his ear. It tickled all the right places.

“I saw you called,” he said simply.

“Oh yeah, I, uh, well, I decided to get my nose pierced and I wanted to see if you’d like to come with me? Maybe?” Iruka asked, nervously scratching at the edge of his scar. Why did it sound so lame now that he’d asked?

Kakashi gave a small inaudible laugh, with just enough force to blow a bit of air at the phone.

“What a wild Friday night you have planned,” he teased. “Wait. Are you sober? You know they won’t pierce you if you aren’t.”

Iruka scoffed at the question. Seriously? He wasn’t an irresponsible idiot.

“Of course I am. I’ve been home all night,” he admitted. _Thinking about you._

“Hm,” Kakashi hummed, clearly in thought over something. “When are you going?”

“I’m kind of already here.”

“Then I guess you don’t need me. You clearly have the courage.”

Was Kakashi really going to make him beg? What a sly bastard.

“I haven’t gone in yet. You called before I got to the door. There’s still time,” he added, trying to convey he still wanted Kakashi to come without sounding desperate.

“Hm,” Kakashi mused again. “What parlor are you at?”

“Tattoo Blue.”

“Wait for me,” was all Kakashi said, before hanging up.

A smile spread across Iruka’s face as he pocketed his phone. He leaned against the brick wall of the building, not sure what to do with this new energy pulsing inside him, created by the abrupt change in his night. 

—

It was barely ten minutes later before Iruka saw Kakashi walking towards him, looking all kinds of sexy. He was wearing a distressed, black, band t-shirt (the Distillers); one that looked like it had been splashed with a bottle of bleach, leaving blotchy orange spots in it’s wake. The collar had been cut off, dropping down in a scoop to reveal the start of his prominent collarbones. He was wearing the same black jeans he always wore—tight as hell, with rips in the knees, tucked into a pair of worn out combat boots. His silver hair was preened into a spiky, messy, _I don’t give a fuck look,_ that Iruka knew actually took effort to get right.

For a split second, his mind slipped into a fantasy; one that involved his fingers deep in the other man’s hair, his tugs being responsible for it’s tousled state.

He shifted on his feet, snapping himself out of it.

“That was fast,” Iruka said, trying to appear as if his stomach hadn’t just dropped to his feet. That he hadn’t _just_ been fantasizing about fucking the man in front of him.

“I live right around the corner, in the blue apartments on Adam’s.”

“Above Giodarno’s?” Iruka asked, taken a back. That was his favorite pizza place. He went there frequently. How had he _never_ seen Kakashi before?

“Yup. I was actually contemplating another piercing on my walk over here. Thanks a lot,” he quipped, as Iruka’s eyes dropped to the one that rested below Kakashi’s bottom lip. It was _so_ distracting.

“What? Your belly button?” Iruka sarcastically teased, even though it was kind of hot when he tried to imagine it.

_ Jesus _ , Iruka reprimanded himself. _Stop it._

Kakashi chuckled.

“No. I’ve always wanted a bar bell through my nipple. Maybe both.”

Iruka almost shot a hand out to brace himself on the wall.

Dear god.

“That,” _would be so fucking hot_ “would hurt,” he said.

“Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not going to feel great when that needle goes through your nose. Unless you’re into that kind of thing,” Kakashi said, raising an eyebrow playfully at him.

Iruka tried to hide his blush by reaching for the door and heading inside.

 

\--

 

The shop had black and white tile flooring, looking more like a diner from the 1950’s, than a tattoo parlor. The ceiling however, was exposed, adding an industrial feel to the place. From what they could see, they were the only ones there. Though, there was a low buzz coming from a sectioned off room, where someone was clearly getting inked.

“We have to pierce it with a stud, but you can change it to a ring once it’s healed,” the man explained. “You can sit down if you’re ready.”

Iruka sat in the red leather chair, using the armrests to scoot himself all the way back.

He felt himself grow unexpectedly nervous. He didn’t know if it was because the guy had pulled on his gloves and was positioning the needle near his face, or the fact that Kakashi was standing so close to him, he was flush against the back of the chair.

“You wanna hold my hand?” Kakashi teased, his voice raining down from somewhere above him. He didn’t dare look up.

Iruka thought it was a cruel joke before Kakashi came around and crouched down beside him, presenting his hand palm up on the armrest.

Before Iruka could think himself out of it, he slid his hand into his, fully aware that his palm would start sweating shortly, but he could always blame it on what was about to happen.

Kakashi’s hand was surprisingly rough and calloused, contrasting against the appearance of his slender, almost elegant fingers.

“Alright, here we go,” the piercer said, bringing Iruka’s attention back to the present moment.

Kakashi gave Iruka’s hand a tiny squeeze of encouragement, and Iruka was so high off that fact, he almost didn’t feel the pain.

_ Almost _ .

He clutched Kakashi’s hand as the needle punctured his skin, his eyes instantly watering over, like he’d just been punched _exceptionally_ hard in the nose. 

“You’re all finished,” the guy said, disposing of his gloves in a nearby trashcan. He handed Iruka a small plastic bag with the shop’s logo printed on it.

“Here are some instructions on keeping it clean. If you have any questions or problems, give us a call.”

“Thanks,” Iruka said, unaware that he was still holding onto Kakashi’s hand, until he had to let it go to grab the bag.

He felt highly embarrassed before he realized Kakashi hadn’t pulled away either. That made him blush even more.

 

\--

 

“So, did it hurt?” Kakashi asked, once they were in the night air again, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin, knowing full well that it did.

“Like hell,” Iruka said, honestly. It hurt more than he had expected.

“Well, it looks incredible, so at least it was worth it.”

Iruka tried to let that compliment slide right off him, but it didn’t work. It sunk straight down into his skin, branding him like a hot iron, the words still sizzling hot on the surface. He latched right on to the opportunity to flirt.

“And what about your nipples? I’m disappointed you didn’t go through with it.”

“Maybe when I’m not so broke,” Kakashi replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Iruka was discouraged by his response, feeling a little deflated. He had _hoped_ Kakashi might joke about wanting to see him with his shirt off, to which Iruka would have replied with a very firm _yes_.

_ Hmph _ .

“Hey,” Kakashi began, coming to an abrupt stop on the corner. Iruka didn’t even realize he had started aimlessly following Kakashi to begin with. “Do you want to grab a drink? It might take the edge off the sting. I’ll buy.”

Iruka tried not to appear entirely stumped.

…Okay. So. _What_? Was this what Iruka thought it was? Or?

_ He held my hand. Told me I looked incredible. And now is offering to buy me a drink _ ?

“I thought you were broke,” Iruka said, trying to play it cool.

“I think I can manage a couple dollars for a beer,” Kakashi teased. “Come on.”

 

\--

 

Iruka got home around midnight, more drunk off emotions, than alcohol.

They had talked and joked for almost two hours straight. He’d never been able to converse with someone so easily before. It came so naturally, never forced. And even when there were lulls of silence, it was comfortable. As if each break gave them a moment to contemplate the other, bringing them that much closer.

But… it did leave Iruka confused. Kakashi was a hard person to read. He kept his face frustratingly neutral, _all_ the time. He flirted, but it was mild. And every time Iruka tried to provoke it further, like inviting Kakashi back to his place tonight, he recoiled.

Even so, Iruka couldn’t shake the feeling that they had something. His brain could be fooled, flip flop between convictions, but his body couldn’t. Whenever they were together, there was a low crackle of electricity that rose and fell depending on their proximity to each other. But no matter what, it was always there, like static on an old radio. It infiltrated every single thing around them, impossible to ignore.

Iruka sighed, plopping down into his bed. Now that he thought about it, it _was_ him who had been nagging Kakashi over the past week and a half to hang out. It never came from Kakashi’s initiative.

_ There goes my brain again _ , he thought, collapsing back into the mattress.

He brought his hand to touch his new piercing and immediately winced, before a small smile crept over his face, receiving a phantom feeling of Kakashi’s hand in his. He imagined kissing that hand, pressing his lips to the callouses, to the rough skin of his knuckles. Intertwining his fingers tenderly with his. Seeing his darker skin against Kakashi’s pale white.

And then the feeling was gone, and he was back to groaning in frustration again. He draped an arm over his face, as if it would stop his thoughts from spiraling out of control.

_ Maybe I should pull back? _ He thought. _If Kakashi wants to see me, he’ll call. If he doesn’t, he won’t, and then I’ll move on because the last thing I want to do is pine after someone I can’t obtain._

Iruka usually didn’t have the patience to dance around like this. He was straightforward about what he wanted and not shy about getting it. But there was something about Kakashi that bared caution. Something he didn’t want to risk messing up. So far now, he’d wait, and see what happened.

With that decision, he got up to change out of his clothes and get ready for bed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you tomorrow, babes. 💜


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> that is all.

**04.**

And wait he did.

Two weeks had gone by (again) without a word from Kakashi. Iruka stubbornly stuck to his plan, despite wanting to break it on numerous occasions (like every second of every day), and hadn’t reached out.

He was sitting at his kitchen counter, having a celebratory beer, knowing he had just aced his chemistry final exam. He should have been feeling relaxed and at peace, now that the weekend was here, and the semester was almost over. But his mind kept straying back to Kakashi’s open hand, waiting for him to take it the night he pierced his nose.

He gave a small jump when his phone rang loudly beside him, jostling him out of his daydream.

For a split second, heat crept over his skin— _could it be?—_ but it dispersed just as quickly upon glancing at the caller ID.

He cursed at his stupidity before picking it up.

“ _Hola Ko. Como estas?”_ (Hey Ko, how are you?)

 _“Todo bien. Que haces?”_ (Everything’s good. What are you up to?)

Iruka huffed.

“ _Nada_. Just got home not too long ago.”

“ _Cómo estuvo el examen?”_ (How was the exam?)

“ _Super fácil_. I overstudied for sure.” (Super easy.)

“Told you. So, what are you doing tonight? Do you want to go out with m—,”

Iruka was getting another call.

He pulled his phone away from his face to see who it was. He was so shocked at the name that greeted him, he dropped the phone entirely.

“Shit,” he cursed, fumbling to pick it up.

“Uh, Ko, I have another call. I’ll call you back,” Iruka said, his heart thrumming hard in his chest.

He clicked over.

“Hello?”

“Yo, Iruka.”

“Hey…”

“I was thinking of taking one of my dogs to the lake. You wanna go?”

“When?” Iruka asked. If it was anything like the first time Kakashi unexpectedly called him, he already knew the answer.

“Now.”

 _Yep_.

Iruka looked down at his outfit.

“Can you give me ten minutes?”

“I’ll give you fifteen,” Kakashi said, before hanging up.

 

\--

 

When Iruka left his apartment building, he was surprised to find Kakashi leaning his back against a black Jeep Cherokee. His snug teal hoodie, it’s strings and zipper detail in white, looked exquisite against his pale skin.

He half expected to find a cigarette in his hand, not able to come up with another reason as to why Kakashi was waiting for him like that. But as he got closer, there was no cigarette, and worse, when Iruka headed for the passenger side, Kakashi walked with him in stride.

 _Is he… going to open the door for me?_ Iruka panicked.

He was so fixated on the impossibility of that thought, he didn’t notice the massive bull mastiff in the back seat.

Kakashi opened the back door, leaving him to open his own.

“I have to hold her back while you get in, or she’ll attempt to steal your seat and drool all over you,” Kakashi said, latching onto the mastiff’s collar.

 _Idiot_ , Iruka thought, crushing any hope he might have had of this being a date. All of a sudden he felt ridiculous for changing his clothes.

He opened the door and climbed inside, willing himself to chill the fuck _out_ as Kakashi circled back around.

“Have you been to Maple Lake before?” Kakashi asked, as he swung himself back into the car. He should have crashed clumsily into his seat, but somehow, it was graceful and soundless.

“Yeah, plenty of times. I like to kayak there in the summer.”

“Of course you do,” Kakashi said, as he turned the car back on and shifted into gear.

Iruka was about to ask him what that meant, when some rap song blared at him through the speakers.

Kakashi’s hand shot to the knob, turning it down, and just when Iruka thought he was going to change the station, this song being a result of whatever was on the radio at the moment, Kakashi began to sing along softly, taking Iruka back completely. He laughed out loud.

“I never would have imagined you listened to rap.”

“There’s a lot about me that might surprise you, Iruka.”

And there it was. That ever present, subtle flirting, that drove Iruka up a wall. He searched Kakashi’s face for any sort of sign, but found nothing, like always.

“What happened to the truck?” Iruka asked, trying to bring his attention to something else.

“That wasn’t mine. The university’s RPTA department let me borrow it for the trip. The fencing wouldn’t have fit in here.”

“This is your car, then? Or did you borrow it, too?” he joked, but actually wanted to know, his eyes flicking to the ash tray that contained several cigarette butts. If Kakashi was a smoker…he tried not to cringe.

“It’s mine. And I don’t smoke,” Kakashi said, ever observant. “I used to. I quit almost six months ago now.”

 _He hasn’t cleaned his car in six months?_ Iruka thought, a little grossed out as he ran his eyes around the rest of it. It wasn’t any dirtier than any other car he’d been in though.

A slobbery jowl pressed against Iruka’s cheek, before a tongue lapped at his ear. He jumped a foot out of his seat, more from shock than disgust.

“ _Bull_ ,” Kakashi laughed, reaching back to pet her. “You haven’t even gone on your date yet and you’re already getting fresh. Rude,” he said, talking to her through the rearview mirror. He rolled down the back window enough for her to stick her head out, before turning to Iruka.

“Don’t mind her. She’s got no manners. I’ve been training her in my spare time. The hardest thing about adopting out huge dogs is people fear they won’t be able to control them. She gets too distracted by the other dogs at the shelter, so I’ve been taking her to the lake, teaching her how to walk on a leash without pulling. Once she gets that down, she’ll be irresistible.”

Iruka felt as if his heart had just melted, gushing out of his chest with the full force of a waterfall. Did Kakashi realize how fucking irresistible _he_ was being right now? God.

 

\--

 

“Is that why you came to my workshop? You’re interested in animal training?” Iruka asked, getting out of the car, having arrived at the lake. He’d been wondering that ever since they met.

“Bingo,” Kakashi grinned, fitting Bull into her harness. “I’ve always had a knack with dogs, ever since I was a kid, but I wasn’t using any sort of technique or style, just my own intuition. I learned a lot from you that day, actually,” Kakashi said, crinkling his eyes into a smile.

Iruka blushed.

“And what about you? What’s your animal affinity?”

“Cetaceans,” Iruka said, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Dolphins, specifically.”

“How did I know that?” Kakashi said, as Bull jumped down from the car and he closed the door behind her.

“You look like a swimmer,” he added, casually.

Iruka raised his eyebrows in surprise.

_Oh really?_

He never once caught Kakashi checking him out, but that comment definitely referred to his body, how could it not?

“I am. I’m a bit of a thalassophile.”

“Is that some kind of dinosaur?” Kakashi chuckled, as they began to walk, the gravel crunching beneath their feet.

Iruka laughed, too.

“No. It refers to someone who loves the water. In Spanish we say _playero_.”

“You should stick with that. Sounds a lot sexier than thalassosaurus.”

“ _Thalassophile_ ,” Iruka laughed again, heat creeping up his neck. He didn’t know what was making him blush more, Kakashi’s playfulness or the fact that _sexy_ was placed in a sentence that had something to do with him.

 

\--

 

When they came to a grassy clearing near the edge of the lake, Iruka watched as Kakashi clipped a fanny pack around his waist, one that he momentarily found out was filled with small treats.

Bull was well into her training, Iruka could tell. She listened to Kakashi exceptionally well. He rewarded her when she acted right and ignored her when she didn’t. He was definitely using positive reinforcement.

Iruka watched for a few more moments before taking a seat near the water’s edge. He felt the familiar urge to get in, like he always did when confronted with a body of water, even though it was only 50 degrees out and the water would be freezing.

Soon, he let his eyes glaze, focusing on nothing in particular, contemplating what the heck was going on.

Was Kakashi just an excruciatingly slow mover? Or was he really not interested in anything more than friendship? The frequency in which they saw each other was far too spread out for Iruka’s liking, but he guessed that could be normal, if his only desire was to be friends.

Iruka picked at the grass next to his feet. But then… there was that undeniable energy between them. The one that made his skin scream electric, every time he caught a spark. It _had_ to be mutual. Iruka wasn’t pulled to someone unless they pulled back, much like a magnet.

As if to prove his point, Iruka felt Kakashi walk right into his magnetic field, a perceptible shift in his personal sphere, as he sat down beside him.

Kakashi let out a deep sigh.

“She’s totally ready, I’m in denial. I don’t want to see her go,” he said, reaching into his jean pocket, which was not an easy feat when they were so damn tight.

“Do you smoke?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka was about to say _didn’t we already have this conversation?_ When he saw that what Kakashi presented was much fatter than a cigarette.

Oh. Marijuana. Well, he hadn’t in a while but… why the fuck not?

“Yes,” he said, reaching for the extended joint, but Kakashi pulled it back.

“You hesitated. Don’t tell me this is your first time. I don’t want to be responsible for corrupting you.”

Iruka snatched the joint along with the lighter and lit it up.

 _If he doesn’t stop saying shit like_ that _, I’m not going to be responsible for whatever I do next_ , Iruka thought, exhaling a long stream of smoke, before handing it back.

He coughed.

“Why don’t you just adopt her,” Iruka choked out. “Bull.”

Kakashi took his own hit before answering.

“My apartment’s too small. And mastiff’s will break your heart. They love hard and die young. Their average life span is 8 years. She’s already five.”

Kakashi passed him back the joint and Iruka took another hit, contemplating that.

“Do you always stop yourself from loving something, because you’re afraid you’ll lose it?” Iruka asked, feeling feisty, making sure to study Kakashi’s face as he said it.

It was the first time he saw a perceptible shift in the man’s expression—his eyes had widened ever so slightly. If Iruka had blinked, he would have missed it.

Iruka smiled to himself, inwardly pleased.

Did he hit a nerve?

“Do you always make assumptions with too little information?”

He _had_ hit a nerve.

Even though Kakashi’s words were a bit harsh, his voice hadn’t gone entirely cold. Maybe lukewarm, at best.

Iruka knew better than to push it, not when he had just made some progress. He shrugged his shoulders and fell onto his back, folding his arms beneath his head. The change in position brought a rush of sensation to his brain, the sky starting to slowly spin.

Shit, was he high.

Kakashi leaned back on his elbows, also content with leaving both of those questions unanswered, as they studied their surroundings in silence. The only sound to be heard was Bull gnawing on a stick somewhere in the distance.

“Do you ever think about how we might be the only species in history responsible for our own extinction?” Kakashi asked, watching a goose land on the lake.

Iruka burst out laughing, even though that was _not_ funny.

“All the time,” he said, planting his feet on the ground. He rested one ankle on the opposite knee. “When I first started reading about climate change, I didn’t leave bed for a week. It’s depressing as fuck. I feel so insignificant sometimes, because there’s only so much I can do and nobody cares. It’s just kind of like… what’s the point? What am I even working towards?”

“If the Earth is just going to be destroyed, I know,” Kakashi agreed.

“The Earth will be fine. Better, probably. She’ll move on. Adapt. We’re the ones who are fucked, and all the other species we bring down with it.”

“Back to survival of the fittest,” Kakashi said.

“No, that’s all wrong. It doesnt matter how ‘fit’ you are, if you can’t adapt. It’s more like… survival of the most adaptable. How we adapt to the changes in our environment, to the things we experience, to all the fucking hardships of life, _that’s_ what determines how we flourish.”

Iruka was completely unaware that Kakashi’s heart had momentarily stopped.

“I don’t get how people can be so apathetic, about climate change, when the facts are all there,” Iruka continued, oblivious. 

“Facts don’t move people,” Kakashi said, his heart pumping again. “It’s not enough. If it was, we’d be seeing massive change. It’s got to be something else.” Kakashi paused for a moment before continuing. “Why do people actively choose things, _repeatedly_ , that they _know_ are bad for them? It’s the same thing, right? Like this…cognitive dissonance.”

“Ooo, breaking out that psychology vocabulary, eh?” Iruka teased, sparing a glance to flash him a grin.

“Shut up,” Kakashi laughed, giving Iruka’s leg a push, causing his ankle to become dislodged. “I’m being serious.”

Iruka straightened his legs out in the grass, bringing his attention to the clouds. Even though his face didn’t show it, Iruka could tell Kakashi was definitely being serious. He was searching for some sort of answer, one that reached beyond the conversation at hand. Iruka thought about it, choosing his words carefully.

“Maybe it’s because we’re the only species that struggles with self-worth. We don’t know our place in the world, not really, so we don’t know what we deserve or what we should pursue,” Iruka sighed, wishing he could be more articulate, but he was still _so_ high.

He sat up, angling himself towards Kakashi.

“Think about it. In nature, there’s a hierarchy and everything is intertwined with everything else. Throw one thing off balance and it ripples to the rest. Every species has it’s purpose, it’s function, it’s place. But then there’s humans. We rely on that hierarchy for everything. Food. Shelter. Fucking… _air_. And what do they need from us? Nothing.” Iruka laughed. “I mean, really, nothing. Domestication aside, we don’t provide a single thing that they need.”

Iruka realized he was rambling, going off on an evolutionary tangent, but he hoped he was making some semblance of sense. He tried to bring it back.

“So, I don’t know. Maybe that has something to do with it. We aren’t born with a path beneath our feet. We have to figure it out on our own. And sometimes some people might have a harder time than others, or they might not figure it out in this life, but whatever progress they make will transfer over, and they can try again. Or I guess that depends on what you believe.”

“And what do you believe?” Kakashi asked, pinning Iruka with a rather intense stare.

“Um,” Iruka started, feeling nervous (and slightly aroused) about having Kakashi’s undivided attention, “well, I was raised Catholic, but I stopped practicing a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, Jesus was a great teacher, it’s just organized religion I’ve got a problem with. This,” Iruka waved his hand towards the towering trees, “is my church. God’s first cathedral. Nature is sacred and I’m just here to serves in whatever way she sees fit. Or…I’m just really high and have no idea what the fuck I’m talking about.”

They both laughed at that for a long while and Iruka was realizing this was the first time he’d truly heard a genuine laugh from Kakashi. All the others had been on the surface, a little hollow. But _this_ …it was such a beautiful sound; he took immense pleasure in knowing he was the one who caused it.

 

\--

 

Iruka was staring out the window on their way back from the lake, trying to hide the stupid smile he couldn’t seem to shake off his face.

They achieved something today, he could feel it. He didn’t know what exactly, but Kakashi had opened the slightest bit. Iruka imagined he’d have to pry him open, like trying to retrieve something from a clenched fist, but it was much more natural than that. A tight rose bud at the beginning of it’s bloom.

Iruka would’ve been happy if that’s all he got today, but he decided to press his luck. He took his eyes off the window and glanced at Kakashi, biting his lip.

“Why don’t you come over? I can fix us something to eat,” he said, fully expecting him to decline.

Kakashi gave a small sigh, adjusting his hands on the steering wheel.

“Okay, yeah. I could eat. We should drop off Bull first.”

Iruka immediately looked out the window again because that stupid smile was back, and bigger than ever.

Kakashi was right. He was surprising the hell out of him.

 

\--

 

Iruka opened the door to his apartment, silently pleading that Kurneai wasn’t home. One quick sweep of the place told him she wasn’t. Her door was open with the light off. She had been spending a lot of time at her boyfriend’s place lately, their relationship having recently transitioned from casual to serious, so Iruka wasn’t surprised to find her gone.

He crossed over to the floor lamp and switched it on, basking the place in a warm low light. It’s shade was made of colorful stained glass, depicting a red parrot in a tropical forest. Kurenai and Iruka had found it at an antique store for $5, where they had gotten most of their furniture, making their apartment appear a little eccentric and mismatched, but it still all flowed together somehow.

“I like your place. It’s...”

“Different?” Iruka laughed.

“In a good way. It’s got character. Like you grabbed the best part of the 70’s.” Kakashi said.

“That’s mostly my roommate’s influence. I always tell her she was born in the wrong era. She’s into the Beatles and Hendrix and all that,” Iruka said, slipping out of his thick cardigan.

“Mm... I see a little bit of Hendrix in your style,” Kakashi teased, eyeing the layered necklaces and thin scarf that hung loosely around Iruka’s neck.

“Maybe,” Iruka said, looking down at himself. “Minus the bell bottoms.”

“Thank god,” Kakashi joked.

Iruka didn’t have to move far to open the fridge, the kitchen and sitting room were divided only by a counter with three stools fitted beneath it. He examined the contents.

“We could make nachos?” he said, remembering the bag of tortilla chips in the pantry. “I have some leftover chicken I can shred and season. Oh, _and_ ,” he rummaged for something in the back, “my friend Kotetsu is Mexican. His mom sends him these homemade salsas and moles all the time,” Iruka said, removing the jar and giving it what appeared to be a small hug. “He always gives me one when she mails him a new batch. It’s so fucking good.”

“Sounds great. Can I help with anything?” he asked, watching Iruka precariously balance a bag of cheese on top of the salsa, which was on top of the Tupperware of chicken.

“Um, you can slice that avocado,” Iruka said, pointing at it’s place on the counter.

Kakashi moved to grab it as Iruka placed a cutting board and a knife in front of him. They both got to work.

“Hey, what was the name of that rapper you were playing in the car?” Iruka asked, as he spread a layer of chips on a large baking sheet.

“P.O.S.”

“Can you put it on? The speaker’s over there,” he gestured with his chin, as he had just picked up handfuls of shredded chicken.

“So you liked it, huh?” Kakashi asked, giving him a small grin.

“It surprised me. The lyrics were really good.”

“Conscious rap is a whole different world.”

Kakashi left to put it on, as Iruka sprinkled copious amounts of cheese on top of everything, placing it in the oven to melt and bake.

“But you know what makes it sound even better?” Kakashi asked, returning to the kitchen. “Weed,” he said, producing the joint they failed to finish earlier.

“What doesn’t weed make better?”

“Alcohol.”

“True,” Iruka laughed.

Kakashi lit it up and took a puff before passing it to Iruka, twisting his head to the side, blowing out the smoke.

Iruka pressed the joint between his lips for a moment, acutely aware that Kakashi’s mouth had been on it a second before, and lifted himself up to sit on the counter top. After taking his hit and handing it back, he took the tie out of his hair, letting it fall over his shoulders.

“Man, it’s been pulling on my scalp all day,” he said, massaging his skull for a minute, closing his eyes, getting lost in the relief his fingers brought.

When he opened them, he caught Kakashi staring, who immediately flicked his eyes elsewhere, but it was too late. Iruka had noticed. And if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, Kakashi’s cheeks had flushed the barest of pinks.

“So, _Kakashi_ ,” he said, purposefully drawing out his name, liking the way it felt on his tongue, as if it always wanted to be in his mouth. “Tell me something about you,” he said, reaching for the joint.

“What do you want to know?”

“Hm,” Iruka took a hit, glancing beyond Kakashi, as if a million questions hung in the air and all he had to do was pluck one. He decided on something rather basic.

“Do you have a roommate?” he asked in a tight voice, before releasing the rest of the smoke from his mouth.

“Yeah,” Kakashi said, grabbing the joint again. “His name’s Tenzō.”

“What does he study?”

“Architecture,” Kakashi said, taking a slow hit, squinting his scarred eye shut.

Iruka thought he would stop there, so he was delighted when he continued.

“He comes from a long line of carpenters. His dad and grandfather were. They work mostly with wood. He wanted to continue the family trade, but his dad made him go to college.”

“I don’t get why people from our parent’s generation think going to college is the only choice for a respectable future,” Iruka said, running his fingers through his hair. He started at the top of his forehead, and ran them back to his scalp, piling most of his hair in a deep part to the left.

“Trade careers are so important,” he continued, “especially in a society that’s becoming highly mechanized. If we lose the knowledge on how to build and create things for ourselves, that’s it. They’ll really have power over us. But I guess that’s what capitalism’s about right? Distracting us from our own real power. A learned helplessness,” he finished, touching his piercing, having changed it from a stud to a rather snug fitting, silver ring yesterday. A habit he hadn’t gotten rid of yet, still fascinated with this new addition to his body.

“Damn, Iruka. Do you always get so philosophical when you smoke?” Kakashi asked, his eyes flitting to Iruka’s nose ring, unable to help himself.

“Who says it has anything to do with the weed?”

Kakashi chuckled, his eyes moving to examine the floor.

“You’re right. I bet you’re as brilliant as you are beau—,” Kakashi stopped, as if he had just realized what he was about to say.

Iruka felt his breath pick up.

_Beautiful. He was about to say I’m beautiful. Oh my god._

The back of his neck prickled with heat.

Kakashi took one last hit, and handed it to Iruka to finish it off. The joint was so tiny now, they had to touch fingers in the exchange. Iruka was so intently focused on not dropping the joint, he didn’t see Kakashi start to close the gap between them. By the time he looked up, Kakashi’s lips had met his.

Iruka took in a sharp, surprised gasp, immediately dropping the joint, not giving a flying fuck about it anymore, as one hand went for the back of Kakashi’s head and the other to his waist, pulling him into the space between his legs.

Iruka felt as if he were floating right out of his body. In a desperate attempt to keep himself grounded, he curled his fingers around Kakashi’s hair and shirt, tightening them into a fist, not wanting to be _anywhere_ but here.

Kakashi’s mouth moved eagerly against his, his piercing bumping into Iruka’s chin in the process. It took all of his restraint not to pull back and give it a good, long, _ridiculous_ , lick.

When their tongues teasingly touched for the first time, just barely, Iruka couldn’t help but let out a soft shaky moan, causing the heat to skyrocket between them.

And then, as if the sound had snapped something in Kakashi, he pulled away, leaving Iruka to feel like he had just been doused with a bucket of ice water in comparison.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Kakashi said, backing away, traces of pain etched in his face.

Iruka stared at him, bewildered. He had never been so _not_ sorry about anything in his entire life.

“W-what? It’s okay…” he scrambled to say.

It was more than okay, it was fucking _divine_. Did Kakashi think he wasn’t into him? Had he not given him strong enough signs? Well, shit. He would clear that up right now.

“Kakashi, I…”

But he cut across him.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry Iruka. I have to go.”

Kakashi grabbed his keys and was out the door before Iruka had even gotten down from the counter.

 

 

What the _fuck_ just happened?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sure you’re wondering what the heeeeck is kakashi thinking?! Feeling?! I’ve purposefully with held his POV for a reason. It’s coming..... soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s gonna get crazy from here.
> 
> Are you ready? ;)
> 
> (I didn’t have time to fix the spacing today... still don’t know why it does that when I paste it. So, sorry for the gaps!)

** 05 ** .

 

When Kakashi had made it to his car, he slammed the door shut, bringing both hands and his forehead to the steering wheel.

 

_ Goddammit _ .

 

This is _exactly_ why he’d been avoiding hanging out with Iruka in any place that wasn’t public. Iruka was so stupidly irresistible, he knew he’d have trouble controlling himself and now…

 

He cursed himself again.

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

He leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes, trying to slow his rapid heartbeat. After a few deep breaths, he started to calm down, his anger at himself dissipating into something… else. He brought his fingers to touch his lips momentarily, in reflection.

 

The way Iruka had kissed him, made his throat _burn_. The same way it did when he was on the brink of tears, but refused to cry. For that brief, glorious moment, Iruka had relieved him of all the stress, pressure, and pain that had been weighing heavy on his soul. If Kakashi had let him, Iruka would have probably disposed of it completely, sucking it right out of Kakashi’s body and into his own, purifying it with his beautiful, noble, heart. One that Kakashi was too terrified to hold in his hands, because he knew he’d break it.

 

Iruka didn’t know him, not really. He only allowed himself to hang out with Iruka on his good days. His stable days. Days where he didn’t hate himself and everyone around him.

 

In fact, when he was around Iruka, those days didn’t seem to exist at all. Like they belonged to someone else. A different life.

 

He looked down at his hands, the same ones that had been clutching Iruka’s thighs ten minutes ago, and laughed. A cold, sick laugh that made his stomach churn. Made him want to vomit.

 

Who was he kidding?

 

Those days didn’t belong to someone else. They were his. They were all his.

 

It was better to let Iruka go, right? He’d just hurt him. If he hadn’t already, he was about to.

 

And somewhere deep down inside him, he knew Iruka had the potential to infiltrate his heart. To get behind the armor he’d spent a long time constructing. Perfecting. That made him uncomfortable. _That_ would make him vulnerable. The one thing he vowed to never feel again.

 

Iruka’s voice cut through his head like a knife.

 

_ Do you always stop yourself from loving something, because you’re afraid you’ll lose it? _

 

He gripped the steering wheel again.

 

Fuck, Iruka. _God_.

 

He had unraveled him so easily, like a cat lazily knocking a ball of yarn off a table.

 

Not knowing what else to do, he picked up his phone and dialed.

 

“Rin? Are you at your dorm? I need to talk to you about someone.”

 

\--

 

Iruka still hadn’t moved from his place on the kitchen counter.

 

He was dumbstruck. Frozen. His brain unable to string together a coherent thought due to so many emotions racing through him at once. He immediately regretted being so damn high.

 

The timer went off on the oven, the sound triggering something inside him, as if he were a grenade and the pin had just been pulled. Anger exploded over him.

 

He jumped down from the counter and pulled out the tray.

 

“ _Hijo de puta_!” (Son of a bitch!) he cursed, dropping the tray on top of the stove with a loud clack. He’d forgotten to use an oven mitt, blinded by his fury.

 

He ran his burned hand under the faucet as hot, frustrated tears stung at his eyes, not entirely sure which thing he was crying about.

 

Kakashi kissing him didn’t answer any of his questions, it only created more.

 

Suddenly, he couldn’t stand being in his apartment anymore, the place still saturated with Kakashi’s presence. It was then that Iruka realized he had left his iPod, the music still playing in the background. He wrenched it out of the speaker and tossed it on the couch, before slipping on his shoes and coat, heading out the door.

 

\--

 

After riding his bike around aimlessly for an hour, he calmed down. He stopped at his favorite park on the top of a steep hill, with a weird rocket ship structure next to the swings. When he was a freshman, he used to sneak off here and climb up to the top. Drink beer with some older students he knew, sloppily making out with dudes who all tasted like cigarettes. But he was alone now. And the only person he wanted to make out with, tasted delicious.

 

He checked his watch: 9:00. Still early for a Saturday night.

 

He pulled out his phone, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts anymore. He knew it was pointless to call Kakashi; he’d already tried, twice, so he dialed Kotetsu instead.

 

“Iru,” Ko said, greeting him above a myriad of background noise.

 

“Hey, what are you up to? I need to…I gotta...” Iruka looked around the park, not really sure what he was trying to say. “ _Necesito hacer algo. No quiero estar en mi casa.” (I need to do something. I don’t want to be in my house.)_

 

“ _Pues_ , I’m at a house party. Izumo brought me _pero puedo salir si quieres hacer algo diferente.” (…but I can leave if you want to do something else.)_

 

“ _Esta bien. Env_ _ í _ _ ame la dirección _ .” (It’s fine. Send me the address.)

 

“ _Vale_.” 

 

Seconds after they hung up, Kotetsu had sent him the address. After memorizing it, he hopped back onto his bike and coasted down the hill.

 

A party would be a good distraction.

 

Right?

 

\--

 

As Iruka pedaled up to the house, he had to double check the address on his phone to make sure he had the right place.

 

There was no mistake. This was it.

 

It was easily the strangest house he had ever seen. It was painted _black_ , with red trimming around the windows, and a bright, blood red door. It looked like a gingerbread house constructed by Satan, or some sort of dark, gothic, cult fraternity. Definitely not a place he expected to find Kotetsu at.

 

Without thinking about it much, he locked his bike to the mailbox, in fear that some drunk moron might steal it, walked up the porch steps, and headed inside.

 

\--

 

Despite it’s outer appearance, the scene he was greeted with was no different than any other house party he’d been to. It was packed. Stuffy. Red solo cups glued to people’s hands. The music way too loud for his liking.

 

He pushed his way around the house, trying to spot Kotetsu, but had no luck. The house was rather large, with a second floor, so really, he could be anywhere.

 

Not wanting to search anymore, he plopped down into an empty couch.

 

“My, my, my. Aren’t you the prettiest thing I ever did see,” a man said in a fake southern drawl, sitting down next to him. He had long blonde hair, pulled halfway back in a high ponytail, a swath of bangs covering one eye. He was wearing a vintage purple crop top, with MTV’s faded logo on the front, above a pair of black, tight, leather pants. On his feet where chunky, platform combat boots, buckling all the way up to his knee.

 

He… wasn’t exactly Iruka’s type, but he was  _definitely_ attractive, so he decided to go with it, happy for the distraction. He was still pissed at Kakashi anyway, so why not flirt?

 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Iruka smiled, accepting the beer he had brought him. He twisted off the top and took a sip.

 

“I haven’t seen you before. I would have remembered.”

 

“I’ve never been here. I was invited by a friend, but I can’t seem to find him.”

 

“ _Oh_ , lucky me. I’m Deidara,” he said, placing a hand on his own chest, revealing dark purple painted fingernails and several silver rings.

 

“Iruka.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, snapping on a piece of gum in his mouth. “Welcome to my crib,” he winked, waving his hand around at the place.

 

A guy quickly approached them with a scowl on his face.

 

“Did you get what I asked for?” he asked, without so much as a glance in Iruka’s direction.

 

Iruka, however, let his eyes wander over him. He looked like Sid Vicious incarnate—the spiky, short black hair; the chain and padlock necklace.

 

“ _Maybe_ ,” Deidara teased.

 

“Don’t fuck with me, Dei,” he said. His voice came out rough and hoarse, like he’d spent the whole day screaming.

 

Iruka was too busy contemplating his shirt, which had the cover of _A Clockwork Orange_ on it, wondering how anyone could like that film enough to promote it, being way too violent for him, so he didn’t see who Deidara was looking at when he posed this question:

 

“Where’s Kakashi?”

 

Iruka almost went to open his mouth before he realized that Deidara asking him that would make no sense, considering they just met.

 

“Who knows,” the stranger said, clearly perturbed. He lit up a cigarette, a studded leather bracelet wrapped around his wrist. “He’s been a little bitch lately. I can’t keep up with his bipolar ass.”

 

As if talking about Kakashi like that wasn’t enough to piss Iruka the fuck off, he proceeded to exhale the smoke in their faces.

 

“Do you mind?” Iruka seethed, swatting it away.

 

The stranger looked at him for the first time, as if he was just noticing Iruka was there.

 

“I don’t, actually. Do you have it or not, Dei?”

 

Deidara took a small Ziploc bag out of the top of his boot, one that contained a fine white powder, and dangled it between his forefinger and thumb. The guy snatched it out of his hand without another word.

 

“Don’t mind my roommate. Obito’s a little _dramatic_. But then again, he is a theater major.” 

 

Iruka bit back his tongue, wanting to inquire about Kakashi, since they both obviously knew him, but he couldn’t ask without explaining how _he_ knew Kakashi, and he wasn’t about to get into that. Not when he didn’t even know what the hell was going on between them to begin with.

 

“So, where were we?” Deidara asked. “Ah,” he gave a little tug at Iruka’s sleeve. “I believe we were flirting.”

 

Just then, Kotetsu came up to the couch.

 

“Iruka, hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

 

Deidara very obviously rolled his eyes, annoyed at being blocked again.

 

“You alright?” His eyes flicked over to the blonde boy. “ _Sonaste enojado en el tel_ _ é _ _ fono.” (You sounded angry on the phone). _

“Why don’t we go somewhere no one will interrupt us, hm?” Deidara whispered into Iruka’s ear, just loud enough for Kotetsu to hear him, a little peeved at the switch in language clearly meant to exclude him.

 

He pulled Iruka up off the couch.

 

“I’m okay, Ko _._ _Gracias_ ,” Iruka said, as he was being dragged past him.

 

Kotestu gawked after him, his arms outstretched at his sides in disbelief.

 

“ _En serio?!_ ” (Are you serious?!) Ko said, more to himself, since Iruka was already gone.

 

\--

 

Iruka felt like he’d walked into a backstage dressing room for some Broadway play. There was a large vanity, complete with tiny bulbs of lights around the entire perimeter of the mirror, and more dresses, and sequins, and wigs, and heels, than Iruka had ever seen in one place at a time, hanging neatly on rolling metal racks.

 

“I do drag,” Deidara said, noticing his expression.

 

“There’s a scene for that here?” Iruka asked, surprised, shifting his gaze to Deidara’s bed. The comforter was some sort of black, sparkly material, reminiscent of a starry galaxy, adorned with a million throw pillows. A rather large one had the word QUEEN printed across it in bold type.

 

“Not really. I travel to Chicago every other weekend. I’m happy this wasn’t one of them,” he said, moving closer to Iruka.

 

He dragged a hand down Iruka’s chest and pulled him into a kiss.

 

It felt rather stale, compared to what he had experienced a few hours ago. It was nice, he supposed, as kissing somebody usually was, but it didn’t create a pit in his stomach. An ache in his chest. It didn’t make him feel like his skin was crawling, begging, itching for more.

 

And when their tongues hit, it tasted spicy, like synthetic cinnamon, due to the gum Deidara had been chomping on. It reminded him of that weird, gritty, flavored fluoride, that the dentist used to clean his teeth. 

 

Iruka was glad when Deidara broke the kiss. It wasn’t any fault of the other man, really, he was a great kisser, but he just couldn’t get into it.

 

He was so lost in his own thoughts, it surprised him when he felt soft lips meet the skin above his pant line, hands already working at his belt. It was just now that he noticed Deidara had dropped to his knees.

 

As he looked down, a head of silver hair superimposed itself on top of the blonde stranger; the arms near his waist were more muscular, scattered with tattoos. He could do this, he guessed. Imagine Kakashi in this man’s place. He hadn’t had a blowjob, let alone sex, in a long time. It’d be nice to get off. Maybe it’d help him release some of his irritation at the man who he actually _wanted_ to fuck in the mouth.

 

_ Are you hearing yourself right now?  _

 

Iruka sighed and brought his hand to grip at the skinny, ink-free wrist that had moved to his zipper.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do this.”

 

He didn’t know what was propelling him to explain himself, but he’d concluded that he liked Deidara, in the whole 10 minutes he’d interacted with him. He respected people who were so unapologetically themselves. He wanted to be honest, and not leave the man feeling completely denied.

 

“I think I might be involved with someone, and I don’t want to do anything that might ruin it.”

 

Deidara smiled up at him with a set of perfect, white teeth. He was really rather beautiful. He re-buttoned and buckled Iruka’s pants, before standing up.  

 

“Well, I hope he deserves you. And that he’s worth it. I happen to give _spectacular_ head.”

 

Iruka couldn’t help but laugh. There was something oddly adorable about him.

 

“I don’t doubt it.”

 

“Well, you can rejoin the party. I need a minute to um, get over my rejection.”

 

Shit. Of course he would have gotten aroused. Iruka felt like an asshole, and it must have been written all over his face.

 

“Don’t fret, honey. I’m only half hard. I know how to bring myself down, but I won’t be able to do it with your gorgeous self still staring at me with those sultry brown eyes,” he said, pushing him towards the door. “I’ll only be a second.”

 

Iruka stood outside his door for a minute, a little dazed, not quite sure what to do with himself, when Kabuto’s voice awoke him.

 

“Oh, hey, Kabuto. What are you doing here?”

 

“I always hang out here. I should be asking you that question.”

 

Iruka shrugged, not really having an answer.

 

“Where’s your beau?” Iruka asked. Lately, he hadn’t seen one without the other.

 

“She’s at the lab. Usually I’d be with her but… we got caught being a little too friendly by the T.A. on duty, if you know what I mean,” he leered. “I’ve been banned from accompanying her while she’s working on her research.”

 

Iruka tried not to grimace. Picturing Kabuto and Orochimaru fucking around near a dead corpse was an image he could live without. Well, Maru now, he reminded himself. The name she had chosen after transitioning. 

 

Maru was a medical graduate student. They didn’t cross paths much, except in the dissection labs. Even so, Iruka never really liked her. It wasn’t something he could put his finger on. There was just… something off about her. Creepy, even. She liked using a scalpel a bit _too_ much, not unlike Kabuto. It’s probably why they got on so well.

 

“Hey, you weren’t looking for K—,” Kabuto started, but whatever he was going to say, got lost in his throat as Deidara appeared, hooking an arm through Iruka’s.

 

“Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart. You know where I live now,” he said, giving Iruka’s side a squeeze, before disappearing into the party.

 

Kabuto’s eyes calculated the proximity of Iruka to Deidara’s door, before they blew wide open behind his glasses.

 

“ _Deidara?_!” he blurted out. “Since when are you into twinks?”

 

“What?” Iruka said, irritated, having zero interest in this conversation. What did Kabuto know about him anyway? They only hung out in class, and Kabuto occasionally came to zoology club meetings. That wasn’t nearly enough to make assumptions about him, let alone who he liked to sleep with. 

Whatever. It didn’t matter. 

He felt exhausted all of a sudden. He wanted to just curl up in his bed and pass out, or maybe masturbate to the image of Kakashi he had conjured near his dick, since it was still burning in his retinas. Either way, he’d figure it out when he got home.

 

“I gotta go, Kabuto. I’ll see you later.”

 

He brushed past him, not even bothering to find Kotetsu to say goodbye, heading straight for the blood red door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Obito. 
> 
> Eeeeeep!
> 
> Wooo! That ends my 3 day spree of daily posts ;D I’ll be back next week with the next chapter. 
> 
> I love my lil’ coven of readers, you know who you are. You make this that much more fun 💜💜💜


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forewarning: this chapter is super high on the angst. But I was also super high on angst this past week so....... yep! >_<
> 
> Enjoy. <3

**06**.

 

Iruka awoke early the next morning, having slept like shit. Not knowing what else to do, he decided to go to the Rec Center. It was always empty on Saturday mornings, so all the good equipment would be open. He wanted to work out, swim some laps, anything to help him stop thinking for _two_ seconds about what it felt like to kiss Kakashi.

He reached for his phone and clicked it on.

Nothing. Still no word.

What the _fuck_.

 

\--

 

He came home several hours later, his hair damp and loose about his shoulders, to find Kurenai in the kitchen with Asuma.

“Good morning,” she said, as he walked in the door. Asuma gave him a nod in greeting, too.

“ _Buenos dias_. What are you two up to?” Iruka asked, dropping his gym bag in his room before reappearing.

“Making breakfast,” she said, as a bagel popped up out of the toaster. “You want one? You look like you could use some love. Bad night?”

He wouldn’t necessarily say _bad_. Kakashi did kiss him after all, but the rest of the night had went to shit, for sure.

“Eh, it was fine,” he said vaguely, not wanting to talk about it in front of Asuma. He liked Asuma, but he didn’t know him well enough to bare his stupid, smitten soul in front of him. “A bagel sounds good.”

He opened the fridge to grab a jug of orange juice, before rummaging in the paper bag from the bakery.

“We’re going to Kotetsu’s game in a bit. You should come with us,” she said, handing a slightly burnt bagel off to Asuma.

Iruka stared at the toaster, waiting for his to be ready. Truthfully, he felt like indulging in a little self-loathing—draw the blinds, sink into bed, put on some depressing music to dramatize his sadness, maybe touch himself again, cry. Maybe both at the same time. Needless to say, working out hadn’t helped much.

“Come on,” she said, sensing his hesitation. “Spend time with me before I leave.”

Iruka forgot Kurenai was going home for her Mom’s birthday. Her hometown was only an hour away from campus. Despite living together, they hadn’t seen each other in a while. Their paths didn’t seem to cross lately, and when they did, it was brief, both being busy with their own things.

“Are you going with her?” Iruka asked Asuma, as he slathered his warm bagel with cream cheese.

“I can’t. The football team has a mandatory ‘family’ dinner tomorrow.”

“Which _sucks_ , because Mom really wants to meet you,” she said, with an accusatory glare.

“There’s nothing I can do about it, babe. It’s not just a dinner…”

“I know, I know. Team building. Bonding. Whatever it is men call it.”

Iruka laughed, before taking a bite of his bagel. It instantly made him feel better. Something about warm bread always evoked feelings of comfort.

“Come to the game with us,” Kurenai said, widening her eyes at Iruka. “So we can _bond_.”

 

\--

 

Two hours later, he found himself in the bleachers with Kurenai and Asuma, staring down at the dusty dirt of the University’s baseball diamond. Baseball season was long over, given it was early December, but the weather had been oddly warm, so the team had pulled together a practice game for the fun of it.

He had just finished telling Kurenai about what happened last night, the only person he’d talked to about Kakashi so far. (Asuma was in his own conversation with one of his football buddies, toking on a cigarette).

“What an asshole!” she cried, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head.

“He did seem put out about something…” Iruka replied, remembering Kakashi’s face as he pulled away, as if it pained him.

“He should have put out for _you_. Don’t make excuses for him, Iruka. He’s been asking you out—“

“He never asked me out.”

“Oh my _god_. Those had to be dates. That’s more romance then Asuma shows me,” she joked. “He made the first move, when you’ve been respecting his distance. He kissed you, only to run out. And is now pretending like you don’t exist? Yeah, _asshole_.” She emphasized again.

Well, when she put it like that…

“Forget him, despite his _exceptionally_ pretty face. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: You should date Kotetsu. He’s been into you for years. And before you say anything, I know you don’t see him like that, but maybe you could try. If that boy was straight, I would have tried to hit it a long time ago,” she smirked.

Iruka sighed, his eyes flicking to Kotetsu on the pitcher’s mound.

It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it. Kotetsu was _hot_ , yeah, he’d admired his friend’s body before, but he wasn’t going to risk messing up their friendship by fucking him. Because that’s all it would be. A fuck. Iruka wasn’t captivated by him, not in the same way as a… certain silver haired enigma.

Iruka didn’t do casual dating. He either hooked up or dated seriously. Nothing in between.

 _Besides, there’s Izumo_ , Iruka thought, his eyes moving to the catcher.

He knew Izumo was practically in love with Kotetsu. He could see it whenever the three of them were together. Whether Ko was aware of it or not, Iruka wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t his place to tell him. If he slept with Kotetsu, it would ruin not one, but two friendships.

“Well, I’m not going to sleep with him just so you can satiate a weird fantasy of living through me.”

“Pity,” she said. “I’d love to know what he’s like in bed. He looks like he knows how to handle what he’s got.”

“ _Kurenai_ ,” Iruka laughed. “Asuma is _right_ there.”

“Oh, please. I’d want the graphic details from _you_ , not from firsthand experience.” Her eyes started to glaze. “You two together, whispering sweet Spanish murmurings in each others ears…. _Whew_. It’s enough to make a girl sweat,” she said, fanning herself.

Iruka blushed, deciding to ignore the fetishization, and how she clearly had thought about this before.

“You’re so easy to embarrass,” she laughed, scratching a hand lovingly along the back of his shoulder blades. “You must stay a permanent shade of pink around Kakashi, you poor thing.”

Iruka blushed even deeper.

Well, she wasn’t wrong.

 

\--

 

After the game, Kurenai had headed home, leaving Iruka alone in the apartment. He attempted to work on his research paper that was due next week, but couldn’t seem to focus. Now that his apartment had known Kakashi’s presence, it seemed haunted by his residual ghost, beckoning his attention at any given moment.

Iruka packed his messenger bag and decided to hit the library or maybe the lab. For his vertebrate anatomy final, he had to properly identify every bone, muscle, and tissue of a shark, a bird, and a cat. The best way to study for that, was by poking around at the specimens themselves.

He eyed Kakashi’s iPod on top of his desk. It had been taunting him for hours. He wanted to click it open and listen to his playlists, which were always more intimate than people gave them credit for. They’re crafted with a purpose, and Iruka wanted to _feel_ one. Try and guess Kakashi’s mood when he made it or read in between the lyrics. He’d seen quite a few of them when he was given permission to browse it the first time they hung out. But, he didn’t have permission now, and he knew that would be invasive.

He opened the top drawer of his desk, and slipped the iPod inside, before he grabbed his own, and headed out.

 

\--

 

Iruka had tried the library first, but still couldn’t seem to focus. The quiet only intensified the loudness of his thoughts. He left for the lab, figuring it would be better to do something with his hands, and he was right. Soon he got lost in his dissections, not really able to focus on anything else, the prominent odors of preserved flesh burning at his nose. He had the lab to himself for a few precious hours, until Kabuto showed up, which was Iruka’s cue to leave. He really wasn’t in the mood for small talk, or one-sided gossiping.

It seemed winter had been delayed. Usually, snow covered the ground already, but as Iruka was walking home, green grass still lined the sidewalk. The cold bite of air was absent, too. He was wearing a scarf, but loosely. He didn’t have to pull it over his face, cursing his existence, the peak sentiment of Illinois winters.

Iruka sighed, wondering what he was going to do tonight. Aside from Kotetsu, Izumo, and Kurenai, he really didn’t have many friends. Sometime it was lonely, but mostly he liked it that way. He wasn’t much of a partier; it’s not that he didn’t like to drink, it just wasn’t his sole interest, and it seemed that’s all people cared about.

Iruka was passionate about many things: music, the outdoors, animals, his culture. Whenever he tried to make casual conversation with people, it lacked substance. He always walked away feeling kind of empty, knowing they had nothing in common, or worse, insulted.

 _That_ was another thing. More often than not, he was treated like an exotic novelty. The few times he didn’t feel that way, was when Kotetsu brought him to hang out at the _International Student_ house.

He _hated_ listening to people try and figure out a polite way to ask him about his ethnicity. ‘Where are you from,’ didn’t work, because he was born and raised in the US. He wasn’t white nor was he black, and that seemed to be the only two races people could comprehend or recognize. And even then, they got it wrong.

If he ever had enough patience or interest to say he was Puerto Rican, the majority of people didn’t even know where it was. It irked Iruka to no end. Last time he was at a party (excluding last night), he had exploded on a drunk girl, who had asked him if Puerto Rico was in Mexico.

 _No_ , Iruka had replied. _It’s an island. Next to the Dominican Republic._ But when that elicited equal confusion, he mentioned Cuba, and then some idiot frat boy had asked if Puerto Rico was a communist country too, to which Iruka had also said _no, it’s a fucking_ colony _of the United States_ , cursing the ignorance of this countries own citizens. And _then_ some snob who thought he was an intellectual had said, _it’s considered a commonwealth_ , as if he knew better, and that’s about the time Iruka gave a big _fuck you_ to the whole circle, and left.

So, yeah. Parties. Not really his thing.

For some reason, his mind went to Deidara. The only person he’d met at a party recently that didn’t annoy him. Maybe he’d want to hang out? He didn’t have his number, but he supposed he could just show up and see if he was home?

Deidara had an eccentricity that Iruka liked _and_ he was gay. Or into men at least, and Iruka could use more queer friends. Straight culture was boring at the best of times.

He did insinuate that Iruka could come by whenever he wanted and he had a feeling Deidara wouldn’t say that unless he meant it. Though, he was apparently acquainted with Kakashi to some degree. Would that be weird?

Iruka huffed.

_I’m not going to stop myself from getting to know someone just because Kakashi knows him. We’re not children, for fuck’s sake._

Iruka felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

_Speak of the fucking devil._

He was getting a call from Kakashi. He stopped in his tracks, and looked at it, stunned. Word from him in less than 24 hours since he’d last seen him? That was a new record. Hell, that blew all the other records out of the water.

He didn’t know if he was excited or angry and he spent so long fighting with his own mind, the call went to voicemail.

_Shit!_

He immediately called him back.

 _Stop panicking_ , he told himself, as the phone rang. _Just feel whatever it is you’re feeling. Quit analyzing for two—_

“Iruka,” came Kakashi’s voice.

“You called?” he said so quickly that it sounded like a snap.

It didn’t go unnoticed. There was a small sigh on the other end.

“Tenzo is having some people over tonight. Do you want to come by?”

“A party?” Iruka asked.

_Great._

“No. A get together.”

_What’s the fucking difference?_

Iruka took a breath to steady himself, apparently he was still angry.

Was Kakashi’s tactic going to be pretend-like-nothing-happened? Because that was not going to fly. And Iruka told him as much.

“Are you going to pretend like nothing happened between us? Because I’m not okay with that, Kakashi. I can’t do that.”

“No, I’m not. I’m very aware of what happened between us, but it’s not something I want to discuss on the phone.”

Well no _shit_. Iruka didn’t want to talk about it on the phone either, but he’d rather meet somewhere alone to talk, not in a room full of people.

He thought about it for a moment, giving himself time to soothe his irritation into submission. Even though the invitation was veiled as Tenzo having a “get together”, it was still Kakashi’s apartment, and he’d never been invited there before. It wasn’t ideal, but at this point, he decided to take what he could get, not knowing when he’d get another opportunity.

“Fine. What time should I come by?”

 

\--

 

Iruka was out the door by 8:00, the time Kakashi told him to be there by. He decided he’d be fashionably late, or at least that was the excuse he gave himself.

He’d changed a grand total of _seven_ times, before he became severely annoyed with himself, ripping clothes off and throwing them all over the floor.

He settled on a pair of slim, burgundy pants, a snug, long sleeve, white cotton shirt with a deep v-neck, accented by a brown vest, which he left unbuttoned and open. After tossing up and releasing his hair a million times, he pulled it into a low, off-centered, messy bun, hanging just below his left ear, tugging out pieces to frame his face. A necklace with a curved bone pendant strung through a thick black cord, hung against the skin of his exposed chest 

He pulled on his coat, and after one final check in the mirror, he left his apartment and headed for the bus stop.

 

\--

 

When Iruka got to Kakashi’s apartment, the door was slightly ajar, so he let himself in. For not being a party, the place was full of people, but he understood what Kakashi meant now. This wasn’t your typical college rager—people were drinking wine; Billie Holiday was playing, undoubtedly on a record player somewhere, with it’s distinctive low-fi sound. It looked like some beatnik bar in New York City, instead of a crappy college apartment in the middle of nowhere, Illinois.

He shifted around uncomfortably, not recognizing a single person, his anxiety threatening to kick into full gear, while he searched for Kakashi. There was no sign of that silver hair among the crowd.

“You must be Iruka,” a guy said, who he could only assume was Tenzo, eyes flicking to his scar.

Iruka scratched at the bridge of his nose self-consciously.

Did Kakashi really use his scar as an identifier? Rude. The thought annoyed him.

“Kakashi said to look for a handsome guy, about his height, big brown eyes, impeccable style.”

Was this guy bullshitting him? Iruka could hardly imagine Kakashi using a word like “impeccable”.

“I’m paraphrasing, of course. He was right about everything. Except he said your hair would be _here_.” Tenzo poked a hard finger on top of his head, getting a little too close to Iruka’s face for comfort. He could smell whiskey on his breath.

“You’re searching for someone you haven’t found yet. I was observing you from a far. And there’s only one person _not here_ ,” he said, turning abruptly serious, still inches from his face, his dark eyes boring into his.

Iruka leaned back a little.

“Uh, what do you mean ‘not here?’ Kakashi’s not here?” Iruka asked, trying to tame the anger rising inside him. If Kakashi stood him up in his own apartment…

“Well, not _here_ , here. He’s in his room. I’ll let him know you’ve arrived. There are all types of liquor in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

 _Weirdo_ , Iruka thought, watching him disappear.

He made his way to the kitchen, giving small polite smiles to the people he passed, avoiding the eyes of a particularly predatory woman, who had apparently taken a liking to him. He surveyed the massive display of alcohol—rum, vodka, whiskey, wine. Everything but beer, really.

As he was examining a bottle of gin, a voice came from behind him, sending a series of tingles down his spine.

“Can I make you a drink?”

Iruka relished in the warmth that slinked over his body at the sound of his voice for a second, his anger slipping away, before he turned around to find Kakashi in all his beautiful fucking glory. He seemed more relaxed than usual, loose. His eyes a little glassy.

_Was he already drunk?_

“What are you drinking?” Iruka asked, eyeing the glass in his hand.

“A Moscow mule. You want one?” Kakashi asked, stepping closer to him to rummage through the bottles, looking for vodka.

“Sure,” Iruka said, trying to keep his breathing in check at their new proximity.

Kakashi moved to open the fridge, pulling out a ginger beer, and some limes.

“Do you have a secret life as a bartender?” Iruka teased.

“Hah, no. Tenzo taught me how to make it earlier.”

“That’s right,” Tenzo said, startling Iruka as he appeared from the shadows. Iruka had a strange suspicion he had been ‘observing’ him again. “He thought it might impress you,” he said, looking straight at him.

“Jesus, Tenzo. No, I didn’t.” Kakashi said, his cheeks flushing easily with the help of the alcohol.

Iruka thought it was the most marvelous thing he had ever seen. He’d never seen Kakashi interact with someone who knew him well, at least well enough to make him blush. His eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, highly amused.

“You did. You said, and I quote, ‘Iruka ordered a ginger beer when we went out to eat in Peoria. I think he’d like a Moscow Mule.’ You know, the origins of this cocktail has nothing to do with Moscow or mules it—,”

“Okay, thanks, Tenzo,” Kakashi said, pushing him out of the kitchen, trying to get him to leave. But Tenzo had one more thing to say.

“Oh, I forgot you used my party as an excuse to get Iruka over here. You didn’t _actually_ want him to socialize with anyone but you. Excuse me for trying. Nice to meet you, Iruka, for a whole five seconds.” he said, before taking his leave.

This time Kakashi blushed scarlet, dropping a couple ice cubes in the glass before handing it off to Iruka, barely looking at him.

“You remembered what I ordered?” Iruka teased, not able to help the smile that crept over his face. He wanted to provoke that blush as much as possible, but unfortunately for him, Kakashi seemed back to his confident self.

“I remember everything you say or do, Iruka,” he said, seriously.

That… was oddly honest and straightforward.

Iruka took a sip of his drink, trying to chase away his nerves. The vodka burned pleasantly at the back of his throat.

“It’s good. You’re right. I do like it,” Iruka said, lifting the glass towards Kakashi, before taking another sip, a much bigger one this time.

“Oh,” Iruka placed a hand in his back pocket. “Before I forget, this is yours.”

He handed him his iPod.

“Ah, right. Thanks,” he said, and Iruka watched as he… smelled it?

“It smells like you.”

“What? _How_?”

“I don’t know,” Kakashi laughed. “It just does. You usually smell like lavender, but sometimes…”

Kakashi stopped to think.

Iruka looked at him in disbelief. He used lavender shampoo… but he didn’t think it left a strong enough scent to be detected.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait.

Kakashi knew what he smelled like? How could he admit that so easily, like it _wasn’t_ something you’d say to a longtime lover?

“…you also have this earthy smell to you. Like incense.” He said, smelling the iPod again. “That’s what it smells like.”

Iruka remembered that he had placed the iPod in the top drawer of his desk, right next to his hand rolled sticks of frankincense & myrrh. Kurenai had gifted him the incense for his birthday. It was his favorite smell in the whole world. He used them sparingly.

He felt oddly exposed, like Kakashi had discovered some sort of intimate secret about him.

Neither of them said anything, lingering in the implications.

“So…” Iruka began, when the silence stretched on, unable to handle it, but Kakashi surprised him, by speaking at the same time.

“Do you believe in karma?”

“What?” Iruka asked, stifling a laugh.

 _Random_.

“Yesterday. At the lake. You said that some people have a hard time in this life but all the progress they’ve made will transfer over and they can try again. You were implying reincarnation, right?”

Iruka stared at Kakashi in disbelief _again_ , trying to understand the person in front of him, but failing miserably. He really did remember everything, with amazing accuracy.

He took another sip of his drink.

“Yes.”

“And if you’re talking about the Buddhist idea of reincarnation, then you must believe in karma, too.”

“Depends on how you define karma,” Iruka said, leaning back against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles.

“From my limited reading of Buddhist texts so far, karma accumulates based on your actions—,”

“—actually, it starts at the intention. Everything begins in the mind.”

Kakashi gave a small laugh.

“ _Thank you, sensei_ ,” Kakashi teased. “Shall I go on?”

Iruka blushed, nodding his head.

“Okay, karma accumulates based on your _intentions_. If you have good intentions paired with right action, you accumulate positive karma. If they’re bad, negative. Every action has a consequence. And your next life is based on the karma that ripens when you die. So, theoretically, if I did a bunch of terrible shit in my past lives, then the terrible shit I experience in this life, are a result of all the negative karma I’ve accumulated. Am I right so far?”

“Technically, yes. But I think there is one major thing that people misunderstand about karma.”

“Which is what?”

“Which is… that just because some _terrible shit_ , as you so eloquently put it,” Iruka flirted, “arises in your life that might be a result of your negative karma, it doesn’t mean you should sit there and passively take it, if you have the power to change the circumstances. That’s not what’s going to purify a cycle of negative karma.”

“Then what will?”

Iruka placed his drink on the counter, before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Forgiveness. Either forgiving yourself, or others who have hurt you, or both. Because if you don’t forgive, you remain angry. You hold on to it. And anger is the ultimate enemy. The one true poison. It breeds negative emotions: retaliation, hatred, which spawns negative action. And there you are, back to accumulating negative karma, continuing the cycle. Or at least according to Buddhism.”

Iruka picked up his drink and downed the remaining sip.

 

\--

Kakashi examined him meticulously. Iruka had a way of doing that. He’d say something brilliant and breathtaking, and then he’d write it off at the end, like it wasn’t something entirely magnificent.

He was so captivated by Iruka’s way of thinking. He couldn’t get enough of it. He could listen to Iruka talk about _anything_ , indefinitely. Sometimes, it felt like Iruka took his brain out of his skull, scrambled it around like a rubix cube, and put it back. He made him see the world differently, see _himself_ differently.

And that was not an easy feat.

Kakashi was a hard man to impress.

 

\--

 

The way Kakashi was looking at him, made Iruka feel twice as drunk as he already was. Or maybe he _was_ that drunk, and it was just hitting him now. How much vodka was in that drink? 

Either way, he felt like he needed to sit, and the kitchen floor seemed as good a place as any. He slid down the cupboards until his ass connected with the tile. Kakashi followed suit.

Iruka liked this change; the counters walled them in, giving a new sense of privacy. Intimacy. Kakashi must have felt the same, because he reached out and played with the laces on Iruka’s brown, worn out, leather boots.

“I like your boots,” he said, rather absentmindedly.

Kakashi’s eyes remained on his feet and Iruka took the opportunity to examine his face. The sharp line of his jaw, The slope of his nose, The light scar over his eye. His piercing. His… mouth.

Iruka licked his lips subconsciously, before taking a hard swallow, trying to force some moisture back into his mouth, which had gone incredibly dry.

Kakashi looked up, their eyes locked, and suddenly there was too much tension, too little air, and nothing to cut through it all.

A pit formed in Iruka’s stomach, followed by a quickening of his heartbeat.

“Kakashi…” he started, not able to avoid this conversation anymore. He desperately wanted to kiss him again, and he needed to know if it was okay.

But he was interrupted by the loud ringing of Kakashi’s phone, which he had pulled out of his back pocket when he sat down. It was resting on the side of his body furthest from Iruka.

He made a face at the screen before picking it up.

“Hello?”

“At home.”

“I thought you were spending the night?”

“Tenzo has people over.”

“I don’t think you’d like it. It’s not really your crowd. In fact, I know it isn’t.”

Iruka wasn’t really trying to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it. There was something strange about the conversation. It was curt and strained, but had an air of familiarity. Like the voice you reserve for your family or close friends when you’re angry. Or…

The world stopped. Along with Iruka’s heart.

 _Or a lover_.

Sound, disappeared. His vision almost blacked out, as he put the pieces together.

The delay in Kakashi’s very first call, following his email.

The sporadic hang outs.

The mild, safe flirting.

The regret after their kiss.

Somewhere, far away. Iruka heard Kakashi say _, fine, I’ll see you soon._

And Iruka knew.

He fucking knew.

It all made sense.

The warning signs were all there, he was just too _fucking_ blind.

Iruka looked up at Kakashi as it dawned on him, to find out he had already started to speak. He saw his lips moving but Iruka tuned in and out, catching every other word, like a shitty pair of headphones with a wire loose.

“Look, Iruka, I, uh, I have a boyfr…”

_Kakashi had a boyfriend._

The truth slammed into him so hard, he physically coughed.

He needed to get out of here. Fast.

“I’m leaving,” Iruka said, standing up much too quickly, the world violently spinning around him.

“You don’t have to. You can stay. I-I want you to stay,” Kakashi said, struggling to get to his feet.

If looks could kill, Kakashi would have dropped _dead_. Iruka looked at him as if that was the most _ridiculous_ notion he’d ever fucking heard in his life. As _if_ he wanted to hang out in the same room as them. Why would he want to torture himself like that?

“Are you fucking serious, Kakashi? _No_ ,” Iruka said, grabbing his coat and making his way to the door.

Kakashi latched onto the back of his vest, preventing him from leaving.

“Get your hands off me,” Iruka spat out, pushing Kakashi away. A phrase he _never_ imagined saying to him. 

“Let me drive you home,” Kakashi tried, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“Why? You’re _drunk_. Bye Kakashi.”

Iruka finally made it to the door, and once he was in the hallway, he gulped down air, as if he’d been suffocating only moments before. He chewed the inside of his cheek until it hurt, trying his best not to cry. He willed his legs to work, clutching onto the railing of the stairs, as he stumbled his way down.

 

\--

 

The frigid outside air hitting his face made his head spin even more, so he collapsed onto the curb for a moment. He rested his head between his knees, trying to slow the start of a panic attack. 

_You fucking moron, Iruka Umino_ , he thought, fisting his hands on top of his thighs.

Tears stung at his eyes, but he fought them; the back of his throat threatened to swell shut from the resistance. His body _wanted_ to sob, to completely lose it.

He heard the door open from behind him.

“I could see you from the window. It’s fucking freezing out here, Iruka. At least wait in the hall for whoever’s coming to get you.”

 _No one's coming to get me,_ he thought, bitterly. _I just can't fucking move._

 Iruka remained silent. The effort it took to keep his anger and broken heart at bay, made his body shake. He couldn’t contain it any longer. He didn’t want to. 

“WHY THE _FUCK_ DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!” he exploded, yanking his head up out of his lap and turning to face Kakashi.

“I don’t know. It never came up.”

“It never came _up_?!” Iruka scowled, standing up. He didn’t like the submissive position of Kakashi talking down to him on the curb. “That’s something you _bring_ up, Kakashi! Especially if you’re going to fucking _flirt with me_ and lead me on. _Que carajo!_ I can’t believe this is fucking happening.” He said, slicing his hand through the air, his chest heaving.

He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear with trembling fingers.

He was utterly devastated.

“I wasn’t leading you on.” Kakashi said, acting like the fucking poster child of calm and collected in comparison.

“Oh _really_?! Then what do you call this?” He motioned to the two of them. “What is this?! What the _hell_ were you doing?”

“I don’t know. I like you. I’m... I’m attracted to you, alright? I wanted to be around you,” Kakashi said, his voice still even.

Iruka bit his lip. _Like_? Iruka was beyond _like_. Teetering on the edge of something else entirely..

 

“ _Te gusto? Te gusto?!_ ” (You like me? You _like_ me?!) He gave an exasperated laugh _“Tú sabes cuanto me gustas, Kakashi? Huh?_ ” (Do you know how much I like you, Kakashi? huh?!) Iruka’s eyes searched him frantically, darting all over his face. “ _No. No tienes_ ni _idea. Tú eres un_ pendejo _, Kakashi. Y soy un fucking idiota._ ” (No, You have _no_ idea. You're an _asshole_ , Kakashi. And I'm a fucking idiot.)

“I can’t understand you, Iruka.”

 _“Yo sé! Pero el español es la lenguaje de mi corazón y ahora se_ rompio _.”_ Iruka’s voice had cracked on the word _corazón_. “No puedo. No puedo contigo.”

(I know! But Spanish is the language of my heart, and right now, you've _broken_ it. I can't. I can't with you.")

It was best to just end this right now.

Apparently, Kakashi thought otherwise.

“Can we still hang out?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka looked at him, fuming. It was the most selfish thing he had ever heard.

“Fuck. I’m sorry okay!” Kakashi said, his composure finally cracking.

 _Good. At least I know he’s not a fucking insensitive robot,_ Iruka thought.

“It’s just… things... things with Obito… it’s complicated...”

Obito? Why did that sound….

A rough, gravely voice, echoed in his ears.

_Who knows. He’s been a little bitch lately. I can’t keep up with his bipolar ass._

Oh.

Oh my god.

“It’s… _complicated_?” Iruka repeated, in a soft shaky whisper. It sounded more murderous than his yell.

“Yeah. I’ve tried…” But Kakashi trailed off as his gaze flicked to the side.

Iruka saw someone approaching them from a distance, the orange glow of a cigarette obvious in front of his face.

Iruka was slammed with another excruciating realization.

 _The cigarette butts in Kakashi’s car_. Those weren’t his from six months ago. They were Obito’s. Kakashi could have said something _right_ then. But he just let him sit there, like a fucking oblivious fool, in the same seat Obito occupied to smoke his fucking cigarettes. With Kakashi. With his boyfriend, Kakashi.

Iruka felt sick. He’d been played.

He turned on his heel, and hightailed the fuck out of there, before Obito got close enough to see who he was.

“ _Wait_. _Fuck_. Where are you going?!” Kakashi yelled at his back but it only incited Iruka to walk faster, feeling like he might break down completely, if he looked at Kakashi again.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, his heart racked with pain, tears starting to stream hot down his face.

 

\--

 

Obito had reached Kakashi just as Iruka disappeared around a corner.

“Who was that? Was that one of your fan boys?” Obito asked, sliding a hand over Kakashi’s crotch. “You should have invited him to have sex with us. He’s got a spectacular ass. I’d give up my possessiveness for one night, to watch you pound into him.”

“Fuck off, Obito,” Kakashi said, shoving him off him.

“What’s got you so pissed off?” he asked, as Kakashi was making his way back to the door. “Or maybe I shouldn’t ask. You always fuck best when you’re mad.”

Kakashi turned around, taking a few steps towards him.

“I swear to god,” he ground out, really, _really_ ready to punch him.

Obito felt the threat and slightly recoiled. Obito had a wicked mouth, but Kakashi was definitely the stronger of the two.

“Okay, geez. Chill the fuck out,” he said, distinguishing his cigarette with his boot on the pavement. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that person was important to you, but as I _know_ your heart is cold and dead inside, that can’t possibly be true.”

Kakashi reacted without thinking, picking Obito up by the front of his shirt.

“Shut your _goddamn_ mouth.”

Obito snaked a hand behind Kakashi’s head and smashed him into a hard kiss.

“You know it only turns me on when you rough house.”

Kakashi let go of his shirt and almost threw Obito on the street.

“Go home, Obito.”

“After you riled me up? Yeah right. Don’t be a cocktease,” he said, attempting to follow Kakashi inside.

Kakashi put his arm across the doorframe, blocking him from entering.

“I mean it, Obito. Go home. I don’t want to see you tonight.”

 _Or ever, really_. But Kakashi didn’t have the energy to fight that one out. Again. All he wanted to do was run after Iruka and try to explain himself. But he knew Iruka didn’t want to hear a single fucking thing he had to say right now, and he didn’t blame him. That had _not_ gone as planned. He royally fucked up, and he knew it.

Obito examined his face, not liking what he saw there, before glancing in the direction Iruka had walked off in.

“Wait,” he said slowly, seriously reassessing the situation. “Kakashi, who the _fuck_ was that?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, SHIT!?!
> 
> \----
> 
> It pains me to say this after such an intense chapter, but I have to take a small hiatus. *ducks for cover*
> 
> I live & work on a farm, and my wife and I are receiving 7 study aboard students at the end of May and we have so much to prepare! So, I can’t promise when my next update will be. I’m wrapping up another chapter for NATA, but after that I’m going to be quiet for a bit.
> 
>  
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL.
> 
> I’d love to hear your reactions & your speculations regarding this chapter! Ranting is highly encouraged. ;D
> 
>  
> 
> Shout out to EternalSurvivor, for wanting to see Iruka go off on Kakashi in Spanish. Mwuah! Thank you for the lil’ seed of inspiration. <3
> 
> PS. If you’re looking for something excellent to read in the meantime, try “The Hunt” by Caeseria, if you haven’t already. (Ty again, Magnus. 💜) It’s a few years old but absolutely *stunning*. I’m a sucker for long reads. It’s in my bookmarks ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! I’m back! Been crazy over here. Thanks for everyone asking/wishing me luck with the students so far. It’s been good! Except our van we rented (9 passenger) to get the students around was broken into it. There was nothing in it, except pastries. And...whoever broke in left a crack pipe behind, ate all the pastries, and left the seats reclined. LMAO I can’t... even... we had insurance so everything is good but honestly XD 
> 
> Anyway!!! I’m so happy to be back here!! Here we go! Enjoy! Or well... it may not be *that* “enjoyable” :P you’ll see.

Kakashi stormed up the stairs, ripped open the door, flew through the kitchen—snatching a bottle of vodka in the process—and slammed his door behind him, or it _would_ have slammed, but it was stopped from connecting with the frame by Tenzo’s shoe. He slipped inside, gently closing the door behind him.

“Everything alright? Someone said they witnessed a confrontation.”

“Glad I could provide the entertainment for the evening,” Kakashi said, his voice seething with sarcasm, flopping face first onto his bed.

“Kakashi.”

“Ten—,” he hiccupped, “— _zo_.”

Tenzo heaved a sigh.

“I’m guessing Iruka found out about Obito.”

Kakashi swirled his finger around in the air without lifting his face from the mattress, as if to say: _ding, ding, ding._

“Well, good. At least it’s out in the open now.”

“ _Good?_ ” Kakashi growled, sitting up to uncap the bottle of vodka. “Iruka hates me. _I_ hate me,” he said, before taking a swig.

Tenzo crossed the room and wrenched the bottle from Kakashi’s grasp, some of it sloshing onto Kakashi’s shirt in the process.

“Give that back.”

“No. You’re already wasted.”

Any other man would have cowered under Kakashi’s look—one full of malice and contempt—but not Tenzo. 

“Glare at me all you want. I don’t care. I’m not going to walk in here tomorrow and find you dead from alcohol poisoning.”

_ Would anyone even care? _ Kakashi thought, before falling into bed again, on his back this time. The ceiling started to move in waves.

Shit.

“Are you just going to linger there or what, Tenzo?” Kakashi asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, his pride starting to surface.

“I doubt he hates you.”

“What?”

“Iruka. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who could hate anyone.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t there when he cussed me out.”

“Can you blame him? You deserved it.”

Kakashi lifted his head up off the pillow to give Tenzo another dangerous death glare. 

“Did you not?” Tenzo challenged him, without so much as a flinch.

Iruka’s face flashed in front of his eyes, contorted with pain and rage and betrayal. He remembered the way Iruka’s voice had sounded when he switched to Spanish; how fucking _beautiful_ it was, to hear him speak in his native tongue, even though it had cracked with pain, even though he was using it to rip him a part. He remembered the way Iruka’s eyes, pupils blown, had darted all over his face in a panic—looking—searching— _begging_ —for something— _anything_. 

And Kakashi hadn’t given him a damn thing.

All he had said was _I can’t understand you_ , as if Iruka didn’t fucking _know_ that already. It was obviously the only way he knew how to express himself in that moment. He should have just kept his mouth _shut_ and respected that. He didn’t need to understand Spanish to know Iruka was spilling his heart all over the place. 

Yes, he deserved it. He deserved _worse_. 

Kakashi’s resolve crumbled and much to his surprise, a tear snuck out of the corner of his eye. He touched it, in fascination.

Tenzo sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Look, Kakashi. You fucked up. But don’t write this off because you don’t want to put in the effort to fix the mess you’ve made.” 

“I don’t—I don’t want to fight anymore. I feel like all I do is fucking _fight_ ,” Kakashi said, feeling defeated. Weak. 

“There’s a difference between fighting with someone and fighting _for_ someone. I know you don’t like people getting into your personal life, but I’m just going to say it: Iruka does something to you. I can always tell when you’ve come home from being with him without you saying so. You’re a different person. More… alive.”

“So what?” Kakashi said, morosely. “So _what_ , Tenzo?” he repeated, choking on a dry sob. “I’m not a different person. At the end of the day, I’m still this fucked up version of fake stability. I only show him what I want him to see.”

Tenzo placed a hand on his shin.

“No, you show him who you want to be, Kakashi. That’s _what_.”

He stood up. 

“You owe him an explanation. I’m going to bring you a liter of water. Drink it before you pass out.”

— 

Kakashi woke up in a daze. He must have kicked off his jeans sometime in the night, because they lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed. He was wearing the same shirt as last night, and his throat was so dry, it hurt when he swallowed. Thankfully his headache was dull, but he attributed that to the empty bottle of water discarded on the floor. 

“Shit,” he said, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up to rest his back against the wall.

Sunlight was filtering in through the plastic blinds, some of them bent and twisted, letting in big patches of bright light. He reached for his iPod that was poking out of the back pocket of his jeans, and absentmindedly brought it to his face, resting it against his lips.

It was faint, but it still smelled like Iruka.

He let the iPod fall onto his chest with a  _thunk_ , as he scrubbed his hands through his hair, resting his palms against his eyes for a minute.

_ What is wrong with me? _

Bits and pieces of his conversation with Iruka floated up to the forefront of his mind; a jumbled heap of words and insults muddled by too much alcohol.

He was fully aware he should have brought up Obito sooner, Iruka didn’t need to tell him that. He almost _had_ , that day at the lake, but he backed out, like a goddamn coward. Because, well, what the fuck would he say? There was _so_ _much_ he’d have to reveal about himself, his past, in order for Iruka to understand how he ended up with Obito in the first place, let alone why he stayed, and even then, it didn’t seem like a good enough excuse.

It just… it felt so _good_ to be around Iruka. Nothing seemed to exist outside of him, when they were together. It was a fallacy, of course, one he had indulged in too freely, and now it had come to bite him in the ass.

_ I can’t believe I asked him if we could still hang out _ , Kakashi thought, knocking his head back against the wall. He knew it was ridiculous and completely unfair, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of losing Iruka entirely, was too much to handle. He panicked.

And to fucking top it off, he said he had _liked_ him. What kind of lame ass confession was _that_? What he felt for Iruka was deeper than that—it had crept up over his body and tunneled into his heart before he’d even noticed, which, quite frankly, scared the shit out of him; he was _not_ someone to be taken by surprise. 

It hadn’t required any stealth on Iruka’s part—it had been effortless. All he had to do was  _look_ at Kakashi with those rich brown eyes, the ones that radiated such warmth they melted Kakashi straight down to his core.

_ That _ was the thing.

Iruka was genuinely a good person, with no hidden agendas or false motives. Kakashi knew Iruka would be good to him. He didn’t think he deserved it. He didn’t think he could handle it. He didn’t… think he knew how.

What would Iruka say if he knew how he let Obito treat him? How they treated each other? How their relationship was a train wreck of self-hatred and punishment? He didn’t think Iruka would be able to understand. Or worse, would judge him for it. Because… how hard could it be to leave a fucking _abusive_ relationship? It should be easy, right? You just _leave_ , right? Goodbye. The end.

Not quite. 

Part of the reason he hadn’t told Iruka yet, was because he was embarrassed. Embarrassed he let the relationship go on for so long. Embarrassed of the fact that whenever he broke up with Obito, he fell right back into it a week later. There was a sick, sadistic side of him, that was addicted to the fighting. To the utter disaster and dysfunction of it all. It was the perfect distraction. It prevented him from having to look inside and actually face himself. His grief. His anger. His depression. Take Obito away, and all of _that_ would come flooding to the surface, when he was barely managing to keep his head above the darkest waters he had ever known.

Meeting Iruka had felt like being thrown a life raft. Not that he had been waiting around for someone to save him, but more like… Iruka gave him the comfort that he wouldn’t drown. 

_ (You show him who you want to be, Kakashi. That’s what.) _

_Fucking Tenzo_ , he thought, ripping off the shirt he slept in from last night, feeling disgusting all of a sudden. _How was he always right?_  

_ (Don’t write this off because you don’t want to put in the effort to fix the mess you’ve made.) _

Kakashi reached for his phone, scrolling for Iruka’s name, even though he was _positive_ Iruka was contemplating whether or not to ever speak to him again.

— 

_ I’m never speaking to Kakashi again _ , Iruka thought, getting out of bed. Well, getting _off_ the bed, considering he never made it under the covers. He was still in his clothes from last night, shoes on.

_ Fuck _ .

He got off the bed only to slump onto the floor. He had a pounding headache, even though he hadn’t gotten that drunk the night before.

_ I’m hung over from crying _ , he thought, laughing a little at the absurdity of it, before it quickly made him want to cry again.

He was heartbroken. He was furious. He was  _mortified_. 

He felt like the biggest fucking _joke_.

Was that what he was to Kakashi? A goddamn joke? Why else would he treat him with such blatant disrespect? 

His heart ached. As much as he wanted to believe that, to have some semblance of an answer, it… didn’t add up. They had a moment— _moments_ —that felt so unbelievably like the _real fucking deal_ , it stole the breath right out of Iruka’s lungs. He’d never fallen for someone so fast—it wasn’t even the speed that surprised him, it was the depth.

That… kiss, the one they shared in his kitchen, had made Iruka lose all grip on reality. He had been utterly lost to the world. He wouldn’t have known his own _name_ , if you’d had asked him.  

But… that still didn’t change the fact that Kakashi had a fucking _boyfriend_. What was he trying to do? Hang around Iruka long enough to see if he was the better choice? To see if he was worth leaving his boyfriend for? Or did he want some new ass on the side, and it was just an added bonus they had chemistry? 

_ Things with Obito…it’s complicated _ … he heard Kakashi say.

_ Complicated _ . How complicated could it be? Aside from the fact that his boyfriend seemed like an utter _asshole_ , one who had blown smoke in his face, who had spoken about Kakashi in a way that had pissed him the fuck off, who Iruka immediately _hated_ , before he even opened his mouth.

Iruka felt fury and embarrassment course through him again. He had met Obito mere _hours_ after Kakashi had kissed him, after Iruka went from knee deep, to fucking _buried_ , in what he felt for Kakashi. And there he had been, obliviously face-to-face with the guy that got to—was allowed to—had the fucking  _privilege_ of—

A sharp pang pierced his heart.      

_ Dammit _ , Iruka cursed in his mind, tears stinging at his eyes again, feeling absolutely  _pathetic_ that he was still vying for Kakashi’s touch. Somewhere, deep in his gut, he knew that whoever he tried to be with next, he’d be settling for.

Kakashi had ruined _everything_.

 

—

 

Iruka felt slightly better after taking a shower, but plummeted right back down to feeling like shit the moment he ate. He stared at his barely eaten breakfast—a fried egg with white rice—and wanted to puke. Waves of nausea overcame him every time he thought about last night, which he couldn’t seem to stop doing.

And now, to make things worse, his kitchen, his favorite place to de-stress, had turned into a full-blown trigger. Cooking used to feel meditative, relaxing. Now, it felt like hell, standing in front of the same counter he had been sitting on when Kakashi kissed him.

He hadn’t planned on going home until 3 days from now. When he bought his Amtrak tickets two weeks ago, he had delayed his departure a couple days, in case Kakashi was still around. He didn’t know what Kakashi did for the holidays, or if his family celebrated or what his family was even _like_ , but he had taken him into consideration anyway.

He burned hot, feeling like an idiot all over again. He scraped his breakfast into the garbage before dropping his plate in the sink. 

Well.

There was really no reason for him to hang around here now. Kurenai was coming back late tonight, to spend time with Asuma, before returning home again. Iruka did _not_ feel like talking about what happened.

He picked up his phone and called the Amtrak station.

“Hi, I was wondering if you had any available seats left on this afternoon’s train?”

 

\--

 

Just as Iruka finished packing, his phone rang.

_ Kakashi _ .

His heart gave a violent twist, as he let it go into voicemail, heading out the door.

 

\--

 

Kakashi was stuck behind the tracks. The blinking red lights and obnoxiously loud ringing, threatened to bring his headache back. He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel, closing his eyes for a minute. He opened them to dial Iruka again, putting it on speaker, so he didn’t have to lift his head. He rested his phone on his thigh and watched the seconds tick by.

Iruka’s voice filled his car.

_ Hola. You’ve reached Iruka. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. Gracias _ .

_ Beep. _

_ Doubt it _ , Kakashi thought, before he hung up. He hadn’t really expected Iruka to answer his calls anyway.

He let out a tired sigh, lifting his head to rest his chin on top of the wheel. He watched people file into their seats through the tinted train car windows, boarding from the other side of the tracks. This train stopped at various spots in Illinois, before ending in Chicago three hours later. He knew most of the passengers were students going home for the holidays. To their families. He used to be one of them. 

Pain wrapped a hand around Kakashi’s heart and _squeezed_.

This would be his first Christmas without his father. He had barely gotten used to the idea of Christmas without his _mother_ , and she died three years ago. But now his father was gone, too.

He didn’t have any plans, not really. When Sakumo died, the ownership of their house had transferred to him, but he wasn’t about to go _there_. There was still so much to deal with and the whole place felt like a graveyard. If it were up to him, he’d pretend Christmas didn’t exist, wipe it off the calendar entirely, but he knew he had to be there for Rin. He wanted to be there.

Kakashi heaved in a shaky sigh as the train left and the gates lifted.

 

\--

 

Iruka relaxed into his seat, preparing himself for the three-hour ride. Usually, he watched a movie on his laptop or read a book, but he didn’t feel like he had enough concentration for either. Instead, he pulled out his iPod and slipped headphones into his ears, gazing out the window.

Snow had finally shown itself, but only briefly, leaving everything covered in a thin layer of powdery dust. The cold had settled in for good, the kind that made his whole body tense when he walked through it—shoulders hunched, his nose buried in his scarf, his spine aching when he shivered, gloved hands balled up tight and stuffed as deep as they could go in his pockets—the same place his phone currently vibrated from.  

He pulled it out to see Kakashi’s name again.

_ Now he calls? When I don’t want to talk to him _ , Iruka huffed before hitting decline.

A mere two seconds later, he was calling again.

_ Seriously? _

Iruka hit decline quicker this time.

He had to admit, he was surprised by Kakashi’s persistence, it _almost_ made him want to pick up the phone…

 …but he was still heartbroken. Still furious. Still mortified.

A text message popped up.

_ Let me in. _

_ Que? _ Iruka thought, scoffing at it. Was this some philosophical bullshit? Let him in? Let him into what? Where? Past his defenses? Fat fucking chance. He’d already done that. In fact, Iruka hadn’t put up any defenses in the first place, and look where that got him.

Another message came in while Iruka was still staring at the previous.

_ I’m at your door _ .

Oh.

 

\--

 

Kakashi knocked on his door for the third time.

“Iruka,” he called, resting his fist against the wood, “Please.”

His phone buzzed in his hand. _Iruka_.

His heart hammered as he clicked open the message. 

_ I’m not there. _

Oh. Okay. Well…

_ I’ll wait for you to get back. _

An anxious bubble arose in his chest as he hit send.

_ Don’t. I don’t want to have to scrape you off the carpet in two weeks. _

Kakashi’s body deflated at the realization.

He left. Of course. Why hadn’t that crossed his mind? _Most_ students left for winter break. It was normal.

_ Dammit _ .

Two weeks? He was sure that was enough time for Iruka to forget about him completely and move on, _especially_ with the narrative he had in his head right now. 

Kakashi dialed him _again_ , only to be declined _again_ —he could tell by how quickly it went to voicemail.

“ _Fuck_ ”, he ground out, knowing full well that Iruka’s phone was currently in his fucking hand. Why couldn’t he just _answer_ it?

_ Pick up your phone _ , he typed out.

_ No. Stop calling me _ .

Kakashi made like he was going to punch the door, but thought better of it, clenching his fist above his head in frustration, before bringing it back down.

He stared at Iruka’s closed door, trying to pretend it wasn’t symbolic, before marveling at the fact the he was even here to begin with. He _never_ put himself out there. What was he doing? And what the fuck was the point? If this was his reward? He thought Iruka would have at least given him a chance to explain himself. He thought they shared… something.

Something special. Unique.

He almost rolled his eyes at himself.

_ Special _ .

It made sense, really, when he thought about it. He wasn’t allowed to have anything good. Life had dealt him a cruel hand, and you know what, he had gotten used to it. Accepted it. Iruka being briefly dangled in front of his face was just another one of his life’s sick jokes.

 

Fine.

 

Fuck it.

 

He tried.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For people who are reading this before NATA, Rin is Kakashi’s biological sister in this fic. :) just in case you were wondering. 
> 
> Soooo! What did ya think?! 
> 
> Me, myself, and I would like to know *rita skeeter voice* ❤️❤️❤️


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve split this chapter into two, because it was so freakin’ long, so I divided it by perspective. 
> 
> First up is.... Iruka!

 

 

Iruka had never been good at hiding his emotions. Everyone always told him he was too sensitive, too readable, but what he hadn’t realized, was that _readable_ actually meant _transparent_. He’d spent the better part of the week ignoring his mother’s soft knocks on his closed door, dodging her concerned questions whenever he walked in the room, so he wasn’t too pleased to be staring down the table at his _entire_ family, as they waited expectantly for an answer.

_“Estoy bien, (I’m fine)”_ he said, a little irritated. “ _De verdad (honestly)._ I’m just stressed about next semester. I got accepted into my internship program, so I’ll be graduating early, which means I’ll have to do double the work in half the time. I’ve already discussed it with my professors.” 

_“Mira!”_ a cousin said, impressed.

_“Felicidades!”_ from a few others.

His mother beamed at him from his right.

This was a new development. He’d just gotten the call back from his interview with the Orca Conservation Center two days ago, and he’d been on and off the phone with the University ever since, figuring it out. So, Kakashi aside, he wasn’t exactly lying.

“ _No, muchacho_. You’ve got the lovesick look. You’re just like your uncle, chasing after the women,” he said, belting out a laugh, his beer belly shaking from the force of it.

Iruka sighed. Apparently, he wasn’t off the hook yet.

Well, lovesick was one way to put it.

Omoi rolled his eyes at Iruka from across the table.

“No wonder you flunked out of college, _Tio (uncle)_ ,” Omoi teased, “Too much booze and tail chasing. Iruka’s too smart to be wasting time like that.”

Iruka gave his cousin a grateful smile. He hadn’t come out to his entire family; he didn’t feel the need too. He’d told his parents, and a select few others that he was close to (like Omoi), but his family was just so _big_ , some of them felt like strangers.

He _was_ getting tired of all the questions and jokes about girls, though. You could only deflect them so much, before people started to wonder. Good thing he only saw the majority of these people once a year.

“ _Pero, Elena_. You won’t be able to see him to get his diploma?! _Que pena. (What a shame)”_ his aunt said to Iruka’s mom.

“I already called the University and bought the gown. I’m getting my _foto_ whether my baby walks or not.”

_“En serio? (Are you serious?)”_ Iruka asked, turning towards his mother. This was news to him.

_“Sí, por qué no?! (yes, why not?!) We paid so much money. I want my photo.”_

Iruka flushed with embarrassment. He had saved a good chunk of money, and taken out a few loans, but his parents had also helped him _a lot_. He knew his mother didn’t mean anything by it, it was just fact, but he still felt guilty. He was insecure about money, mostly because he grew up with very little.

“ _Oye, Iruka._ Do it for your _mamá_ , ‘ey?” his Dad said, patting him on the head.

“Of course,” Iruka smiled, before he sighed, picking at his dessert with his fork. Thinking about graduation meant thinking about school. And thinking about school meant thinking about Kakashi—someone he’d managed to push out of his mind for a whole two minutes, before he was back again.

Iruka stared at Omoi, and Omoi twitched his nose in response, a very subtle way of asking _what?_ without having to speak. Iruka motioned with his chin towards the door, and they both got up.

_“Que pasa? (what’s going on?)”_ Omoi asked, once they distanced themselves.

“Can we get out of here for a bit?”

_“Dale.”_

As inconspicuous as they tried to be, they didn’t go unnoticed as they put their coats on. 

_“’ey,_ you two _. Dónde van? (Where are you going?)”_

“Karui being as nosy as ever,” Omoi grumbled to Iruka, before raising his voice to speak to the rest of the room. “I just turned 21, I want to put my ID to the test and buy Iruka a beer,” Omoi said, opening the door and pushing Iruka out, before they were questioned any further.

 

\--

 

The bar they chose catered to an older crowd, but seeing as they wanted a place to converse, not party, it was perfect. Two fake palm trees, their trunks wrapped with yellow lights, their leaves with green, flanked the jukebox in the corner. Old men were playing dominos on round, wooden tables. Every inch of the wall was filled with framed photos of famous _salsa_ and _bachata_ performers, along with vintage posters of their concerts. A huge Puerto Rican flag hung over the mirror behind the bar, above the hundreds of bottles of alcohol. _Tito Puente_ was blaring out of the speakers, the sound of trumpets and congo drums filling the room.

“So you wanna tell me what’s going on? I know it’s not your workload, despite what you say,” Omoi said, taking a sip of his _medalla_. “ _Tú mamá no cree eso tampoco. (Your mom doesn’t believe that either)”_

“Not really,” Iruka said, knowing he’d tell him anyway. It was more or less the reason he brought him here. _“_ _Mi mamá te pidio que me interrogaras_ _? (Did my mom ask you to interrogate me?)”_

“ _Claro que si_ , _(of course)”_ Omoi laughed. “But that’s not the reason I’m asking. If I had to guess… it’s gotta be love-related. _Tío tuvo razón, menos_ _en el sexo de la persona (Uncle was right, minus the sex of the person)_ ,” Omoi’s laugh continued. “You break someone’s heart again, _primo? (cousin?)”_ he teased, knocking his shoulder into Iruka’s. “Shi still talks about you, you know. I’m surprised he hasn’t materialized yet. He has a sixth sense for whenever you’re in town, I swear.”

Iruka grimaced, reaching for his _modelo_ the bartender just dropped off. Shi was his ex. They dated for about 6 months before Iruka felt like it wasn’t going to go anywhere. Shi, however, felt very differently.

“More like someone broke mine,” Iruka said, staring down the neck of his beer bottle.

Omoi raised his eyebrows in surprise.

_“Que pas_ _ó_ _? (What happened?)”_

Iruka sighed, leaning back in his chair. He shifted an ankle onto his thigh, letting his knee rest against the edge of the bar.

“He came to a workshop I put on with the Zoology Club. I was instantly attracted to him. Aside from the fact that he’s ridiculously good looking, there was something about the way he carried himself, or the way he didn’t, I guess. We hung out a few times. It felt like the attraction was mutual. He’d flirt, but he was hesitant, and I didn’t know why, so I took things slow. I thought maybe he just wanted to be friends, but then…he kissed me. It was…” Iruka looked off, not sure he could put it into words. He didn’t know if he wanted to cheapen it by trying.

“That good, huh?” Omoi smirked.

Iruka smiled weakly, pausing to pick at the peeling label on his bottle, wet from the condensation, his throat starting to get tight.

“Turns out he has a boyfriend.”

_“Hijo de puta! (son of a bitch!)”_ Omoi cursed, clacking his beer onto the bar.

It seemed so simple and insignificant when Iruka told the story like that. Maybe it was. Maybe he was overreacting. I mean, really, he and Kakashi had only hung out a handful of times. They _barely_ knew each other, yet Iruka had never been this strung out over a man before. It didn’t make any sense.

“I gotta admit. It’s a little unnerving to see you so calm about it.”

“I can assure you, I wasn’t,” Iruka said, in remembrance.

“Still, the fact that you aren’t cursing that  _pendejo_ out right _now_ …” Omoi gave him a sympathetic look, “I’m sorry, Iruka,” he said, smoothing a hand along his shoulder, before giving his neck a consoling squeeze. “You must really like him.”

Iruka’s eyes started to sting. 

“He tried to contact me, after I found out. To ‘explain’. But I just… what the _fuck_ is there to explain?” Iruka uncrossed his ankle, sitting up straighter, his anger starting to surface. “Seems pretty fucking straight forward, no?  _No quiero escucharlo, (I don’t want to hear it),”_ he said, his chest beginning to heave, his heart starting to race. “I met his boyfriend at a party one night, unknowingly, and even though he’s a fucking  _prick,_ I _never_ wanted to be the reason someone gets cheated on, _tu sabes? (you know?)_ Like… _goddammit.”_

Iruka leaned his elbows onto the bar, threading his fingers through his hair, starting at his forehead, before coming to rest at the base of his skull. He stared at the dark wood of the bar, his nose inches from the surface.

This was a new feeling, one he recently discovered. He had added it to the staggering pile of shit he was already feeling.

“It’s not your fault.”

Iruka let out a sinister laugh. One that twisted his gut.

“There were warning signs, Omoi,” Iruka admitted, lifting his head. “When I look back. I just didn’t interpret them like that because I never would have thought—”

“—No, you wouldn’t have, because you’re a decent fucking person, Iruka. You’d never cheat on anyone, so it didn’t cross your mind that someone else would. _Especially_ someone you’re interested in. You’re not attracted to sleazy men,” he said, point blank.

Omoi was right, he knew, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty.

“ _And_ you don’t pursue someone seriously unless you’re interested in a relationship. You’ve had your fair share of hook-ups,” Omoi raised a playful eyebrow at him, “but you’re strict about it remaining just that. This sounds different. _Tuviste paciencia con él_ … _(you had patience with him),_ Omoi laughed in disbelief, “…when you’re infamous for going after what you want.”

“I don’t know anymore. Maybe I’m not a good judge of my own feelings. Shi, _por ejemplo_ _(for example).”_

“That was just you wanting to see what it was like to have a boyfriend. That’s different.” Omoi grabbed a tootsie pop from a glass bowl on the bar, unwrapping it to stick it in his mouth. “Unfortunately for Shi.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that.

“You know, I always thought you’d end up with—shit, what’s his name? _El mexicano (the Mexican)?”_

“Kotetsu _._ Why does everyone keep saying that?” Iruka asked, exasperated, leaning back into his chair again.

“Because you brought him home with you once.”

“ _Anda pa’ carajo_. It was spring break and he had nowhere to go. His entire family still lives in Mexico. He couldn’t afford a ticket home at the time.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Omoi drawled, skeptically, his sucker clanking against his teeth. “Maybe for _you_. He was all googly-eyed every time you walked into the room. Karui wouldn’t shut up about it. Isn’t that how all the best relationships start out anyway? Friends to lovers?” he teased.

“What do you know? You trip over any girl who gives you the slightest bit of attention.”

“What can I say? There’s so many beautiful women in the world,” Omoi swooned, and as if to prove his point, he moved his eyes in the direction of the small dance floor.

Iruka flicked his eyes there too, to see it was littered with a few couples around his parent’s age, along with a particularly skilled young woman, her lips painted the same color as her red dress, which swung in elegant waves near her knees, due to her quick steps.

Iruka _loved_ to dance, and he was good at it. He was half tempted to cut in and ask for her hand. For a split second, he wondered if Kakashi could dance. The thought made him laugh, and then want to cry.

“Maybe you should give this guy—what’s his name?”

Iruka had felt Omoi’s eyes turn back to him, but come _on_ , how could _that_ be written on his face?

“…Kakashi,” Iruka said, forcing it past his lips. Just saying his name brought a piercing pain to his heart.

“Maybe you should give Kakashi a chance to explain himself—,” Iruka glared at him “— _Yo s_ _é_ _, yo sé (I know, I know)_ ; you’re stubborn as fuck,” Omoi laughed, “But what if he’s your soulmate? Your one true love? You can’t let that go. _Pero_ … I’m sure his boyfriend will want revenge, so you’ll have to flee the country together, and live secret lives, with secret identities. Adopt a million foreign babies who you’ll train into elite ninjas to protect your estate from his ex-boyfriend’s gang of rogue assassins.”

“ _What_ —,” Iruka started, but stopped himself. He really wasn’t surprised. Omoi was known for his outlandish imagination. “Your predictions don’t bring me any comfort. They’ve never brought _anyone_ any comfort.”

“One day, I’m going to be right. You’ll see. You’ll _all_ see.”

“Yeah, like that time you thought the ferris wheel at Navy Pier got jammed because Karui spit her gum over the ledge. Or the Cubs lost the World Series because Darui put ketchup on his hotdog while we were all at the game—,”

“— _Oye_ ,” Omoi said, taking out his sucker to point it at Iruka. “Everybody knows true Chicagoans only use mustard. He was defiling the Chicago spirit, and it had a ripple affect. It totally makes sense.”

Iruka rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. All I’m saying is maybe there’s something you’re not seeing. It might be worth a shot to give it another go.”

Iruka rubbed at the spot on his nose where his scar left a divet, before downing the rest of his beer.

_Maybe he has a point,_ Iruka resigned. It’s not like he hadn’t wondered that himself.

He slapped some cash on top of the bar, before they both stood up to go.

_If Kakashi calls again, I’ll answer._

 

\--

 

Kakashi never called, and Iruka was due back at school tomorrow. When Iruka told Kakashi to stop calling him two weeks ago on the train ride home, he wasn’t expecting Kakashi to take it so seriously. He _thought_ Kakashi would have given him a few days at best, to cool off. Iruka was disappointed (and sort of shocked) he hadn’t tried again after how persistent Kakashi had been when he left. 

Well, he sure as _hell_ wasn’t going to be the one who called first.

Guess he wasn’t worth fighting for.

So much for Omoi’s worthless fucking predictions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhh. Still not talking to each other. But at least Omoi gives good advice? 
> 
> I’ll be back tomorrow with Kakashi’s POV. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments! ;) 
> 
> PS. I’ve posted my first Kakairu one shot, and there are plenty more to come, due to the prompts I’ve received. If you’re a fan of my writing, be sure to subscribe to me so you don’t miss out! 
> 
> The first one is called “Go To Bed”, and you can find it on my dashboard 🖤. I’d love if you’d give it a read! 
> 
> See you tomorrow!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round 2! 
> 
> This chapter is happening in tandem with the previous.

* * *

Kakashi pulled up to Rin’s dorm, finding her waiting on a bench outside, clutching her overnight bag to her chest. She looked like a brighter version of _Wednesday Addams_ —a prominent white collar stood out starkly against her red velvet dress that draped down to mid thigh, giving way to black tights, and knee high black boots. She hopped up when she saw him, a grin plastered to her face as she pulled open the door.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, getting into the car.

Kakashi gave her a small smile in return.

“You changed your hair again,” he pointed out.

“What do you think?”

It was nearly the same shade of dark red as her dress, with orange lowlights peaking out underneath. It barely brushed her shoulders, pulled back into two, tiny pigtails.

“It suits you. Do you need to stop by Family Video?”

“No, I’ve got my movie already. Netflix sent it in the mail yesterday, but I need to make a quick stop at the grocery store, if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

 

\--

 

After going to the grocery store, which Rin  _insisted_ Kakashi stay in the car for, they went back to Kakashi’s apartment for a full night of movies—a Christmas Eve Hatake tradition. Growing up, they usually went to a double feature at the theater as a family. Other times they each chose a movie, and saw how many they could get through, before passing out due to a Christmas cookie induced coma.

Their mother had been a professor in Cinematic Studies, passing on her passion to both her children. It was the one thing Kakashi could still bare to do, despite both of his parents being gone.

“Is Tenzo at work?” Rin asked, dropping her grocery bags in the small kitchen.

“Yeah, but he gets off around 7. Should I tell him to bring some pizzas home with him?”

“That sounds good. Should we wait for him before we start our marathon?” she asked, while placing a couple of things in the fridge.

“Nah. We can start with my pick. He won’t like it anyway.”

“Whattaya got?” she asked, crossing over to join him on the couch, pulling her knees into her chest.

“ _Paprika_ ; I haven’t seen it yet. It’s by Satoshi Kon. The same guy who did _Perfect Blue_ and _Tokyo Godfathers_. Did I make you watch those?”

“You told me about them, but I haven’t checked them out yet.”

“You should. He’s a genius.”

“We’ll see about that,” she teased, ripping open a box of _Pocky_.

“Where did you get those?” Kakashi asked, amused.

“At the grocery store, if you can believe it. Apparently Japanese snacks are becoming a thing, not that these are my favorite, but I was feeling nostalgic. Want one?”

“No, thanks,” Kakashi said, grabbing for the remote to press play, before he was hit on the side of the face by some sort of bag.

“I figured. Those are for you.”

He looked down in his lap to find his favorite snack ever: _nori maki arare_.

“These were at the grocery store, too?!” he asked, in disbelief. He’d need to go stock up, ASAP.

“Yeah _right_ ,” she laughed. “I ordered them for you.”

Kakashi smiled to himself as settled into the couch, feeling entirely content for the first time in what felt like forever.  

  

\--

 

“What a trip. That reminded me a lot of  _Inception_.” Rin said, as the credits started to roll.

“You mean _Inception_ reminds you of _Paprika_. It was made 4 years prior. Some people say it blatantly copies _Paprika_.”

“I don’t know if I’d go _that_ far.”

“You wanna fight about it?” he smirked, as he heard the front door opening, Tenzo having come home.

“With you, _no_ ,” she said, pushing his face, attempting to wipe the smirk off it.

“What a touching sight of sibling love,” Tenzo said, placing the pizzas he brought with him on the counter, filling the room with a pleasant aroma. He was still wearing his uniform—white pants, white shirt, white apron. 

“Hey, Tenzo. You wanna watch _Pan’s Labyrinth_ with us?” she said, hopping up off the couch to snag a slice of cheese. “That’s my pick. You already missed Kakashi’s.”

“Was it anime?”

“Yes.”

“Thank _god_.” 

“You know _what_ —,” Kakashi started, but his phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered, stepping away into his room to take the call.

_ “Come over.” _

“I thought you had plans?”

_ “I decided not to go.” _

“I can’t. I’m with Rin.”

_ “Ditch her. I’ve got something that needs your attention.” _

“ _Tch_. I’m not going to do that.”

_ “Come on. You see Rin all the time. What’s the big fucking deal?” _

“Because today’s _a big fucking deal_ for her, okay? I’m not leaving her alone.”

There was a second of silence.  

_ “Can I come over then?” _

“I guess,” he didn’t really know what compelled him to say it. It wasn’t really a conscious choice; the answer just fell out of his mouth, like a breath.

_ “Wait. Is Tenzo there?” _

“Yes.”

Obito groaned.

“He lives here, Obito.”

_ “ _ No shit. _He could have been out or something, I don’t know. I don’t like the way he looks at me. And he hovers over you too much. It pisses me off.”_

“Then don’t come over.” Kakashi could honestly care less.

_ “No, alright, fine. I’m coming. I’ll be there soon.” _

Kakashi hung up.

He walked back into the sofa room.

“Uh, Obito is coming over,” Kakashi said, not really looking at either of them. He knew neither Tenzo nor Rin were big fans of him and they weren’t subtle about it.

The energy in the room momentarily shifted, as if all the joy had been sucked out.

 

\--

 

“Oh, pizza. Hell yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Obito said, grabbing a slice from the open box. “What are you guys watching?” Obito asked, noticing the TV was still paused from when Kakashi got up to answer the door.

“ _Pan’s Labyrinth_ ,” Rin said, with a quick glance in Obito’s direction.

“That gay ass David Bowie movie?” Obito asked, crossing to the sitting room, dropping his heavy studded leather jacket onto the floor by the couch.

“That’s _the Labyrinth_ ,” Kakashi corrected him, resuming his seat on the couch.

Obito stood for a moment, wondering where he was going to sit, considering the couch was full. For a second, he glared at Tenzo, who sat to Kakashi’s left, but Tenzo didn’t seem to get the hint _(he totally did, and definitely ignored it),_ so Obito took a seat on the floor between Kakashi’s legs, leaning against the couch, bringing the pungent smell of cigarettes with him.

 

 

\--

 

“Wow,” Kakashi said. “That was incredible.”

“That…was a lot more depressing than I thought it would be,” Tenzo said. “But I like the cryptic fairytale aspect.”

“Same,” Kakashi said. “Classic fairytales usually have a dark or foreboding side. Almost all of them get watered down to fit the palette of the West.”

“Yeah. Look at the Little Mermaid, for example. In the original, the mermaid never succeeds in gaining the prince’s love. The whole story is a complex exploration of issues involving social class and doomed aspirations. It’s _heartbreaking_. But Disney’s idea of ‘fairytale,’ is entirely different,” Rin said.

“Okay _so_ ,” Kakashi said, excitedly. “The question remains: was Ofelia’s experience real or imagined?”

“I say real. How could she escape the locked attic if the chalk door wasn’t real?” Rin pressed.

“What are you guys talking about?” Obito asked, confused.

“It could be said that Ofelia created the whole thing, right? To escape the horrors of her reality: a civil war, a fascist stepfather. A way to cope with misery and loneliness,” Kakashi explained.

“But there were clues that hinted the realm could be real. Like the mandrake. When Vidal threw it into the fire, Ofelia’s mother miscarriages and dies,” Tenzo pointed out.

“ _But_... the miscarriage could have also come from stress. I mean, geez, did you see her? Vidal was threatening her daughter,” Kakashi countered.

Obito let out a heavy breath.

“Why do you have to pick a part a movie like that? Just let it be. Who cares,” he said, biting his nail, blatantly uninterested.

“Because if a film is truly good, it works as a piece of storytelling. It should tell something different to everyone,” Kakashi frowned, annoyed. If this were Iruka…he knew they could debate this well into the night. It made his heart skip, just thinking about it. _Fuck_. 

“I gotta pee!” Rin said, jumping out of her seat. “I’ve been holding it, _ah!_ ”

Kakashi watched as Obito’s head turned, his eyes following Rin around the corner.

He. Did. _Not_. 

Kakashi’s blood ignited.

He stood up, pulling Obito with him, shoving him into his room. He closed the door behind them.

“Fucking finally,” Obito said, reaching for him. “I thought that movie would never end,” but Kakashi placed a hand on his chest.

“Were you checking out Rin just now?” Somehow his voice came out steady and strong.

Obito swallowed.

“…No,” 

“You were. I fucking saw you.”

“Okay, fine. She’s… really attractive. She’s got the same genes as you; how could she not be?”

_ “Obito.”  _ Kakashi warned, his voice dark and serious now. 

“Alright, alright. It won’t happen again. It’s not like I’d give you up for anyone anyway,” he said, advancing on Kakashi, but he dodged the touch.

“I didn’t pull you in here to fuck.”

“But we still could.”

“Are you out of your damn mind? Not with my sister out there.”

“We can be quiet,” Obito said. 

There was a strange softness in his face that Kakashi had never seen before.

“No.” 

“Fine. What about when she goes to sleep?”

“You’re not spending the night.”

Kakashi’s answer was firm and resolute, with no room for an argument.

“Then maybe I should just go.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

A look of surprise on flit across Obito’s face, as if he had expected Kakashi to ask him to stay. He bumped past Kakashi and headed for the door.

When he stepped into the hall, he turned back to Kakashi.

“I’m… I’m sorry for being a dick earlier. It’s gotta be hard, you know, without your dad—,”

Kakashi glared at him.

Obito looked away, swallowing.

“I just—yeah. I was being an ass.”

Obito seemed hesitant to leave.

_ What is with him tonight? _ Kakashi thought. Their relationship had always been exempt of intimacy. It’s not like tonight was any different.

“Kakashi, you—you know, I, uh,” Obito shifted around uncomfortably “care about you, right? This could be—we could be—different…maybe. With each other.”

Kakashi stared at him, just… stared. He wasn’t surprised or pissed or touched. Nothing. Completely void of any sort of emotion. He searched himself for some semblance of reciprocation. Did _he_ care about Obito?

It was clear Obito was waiting for some sort of answer.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he said, honestly.

“Fine,” Obito snapped, going back to his calloused self. “Whatever. Forget I said anything.”

 

 

\--

 

 

“I can take the couch Rin, it’s really not a big deal,” Kakashi said, tucking a sheet around the cushions. “You’ll have more privacy in my room.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m totally comfortable around Tenzo. It’s fine.”

_ But not Obito _ , Kakashi thought. He could tell his sister had been on edge ever since he arrived. Anger flared through him. He wondered how many times Obito had ogled his sister without him noticing. 

“Alright,” he said, handing her a heavy blanket. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she smiled, sitting down onto the couch, reaching for her bag. “Thanks. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight,” he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair before heading to his room.

 

\--

 

Kakashi laid in bed with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. All the thoughts he avoided thinking tonight, came flooding back to him in the dark. Seven months had already gone by, but he could see it as clear as if it were yesterday—his father dead in his parent’s bed. The same bed him and Rin used to cuddle up in on stormy nights when they were kids; their mother a never-ending fountain of folklore and fairy tales. She’d tell them stories until they both passed out, and then they’d wake up in their own rooms, having been carried there silently by Sakumo.

Kakashi would often wake up in the transition, his senses finely tuned, and then Sakumo would curl up in _his_ small bed, soothe him with stories about the Thunder Gods, as they watched lightening light up the skies.

Those memories were tainted now. Seen through a blood red hue.

The loss of his mother didn’t hurt any less, but he’d gotten used to her absence. Three years without someone will do that to you. But his father…

…was still an open wound. One that was improperly dealt with. And what happens when you try to cover a gash that hasn’t been properly cleansed?

It infects.

 

\--

 

There was a soft knock on his door.

_ “K?” _ came Rin’s voice.

She peered through a crack in the door.

Kakashi folded his comforter back in invitation, knowing she must be plagued by the same thoughts. So, he concealed his own, and tried to appear normal.

She climbed into bed, in an oversized _My Chemical Romance_ shirt, and pink silk shorts, bringing a plush of _Totoro_ with her.

“I can’t believe you still sleep with that thing,” Kakashi chuckled. He had bought it for her on one of their family trips to Japan, having noticed her shooting heart eyes at it from the storefront window. It was for her 10thbirthday.

She held it above her head so they could both look at it. It was a raggedy old thing. Soft and worn from years of being coddled.

“Are you kidding me? I’m gonna be buried with it,” she said, bringing it down to wrap her arms around it. “I think Dad secretly hated every time it was my turn to pick out a movie at Blockbuster. I _always_ chose _Totoro_. I knew he was tired of it, but he endured it anyway.”

“ _Dad?_ How about me? And Mom?” Kakashi teased.

“You two always fell asleep halfway through,” she said, poking his shoulder. “You’d be curled up in mom’s lap like a content pup.  _Dad_ was the one who stayed up with me and kept me company, despite being bored out of his mind for seeing the film for the hundredth time,” she laughed. “I caught his head bobbing a few times. But he’d always blink himself awake.”

A somber silence filled the room. It was heavy. _Suffocating_. He had to fight the urge to throw open a window and carry Rin out the fire escape.

Kakashi was right. She’d been thinking about their father as much as he had.

_ “Ni-san?” _ she whispered, her voice pleading and broken. Kakashi didn’t need to see her face to know tears were streaming down it. He pulled her into an embrace. She burrowed her head in his chest, as it shook with his own silent sobs. Kakashi pressed his closed mouth into his sister’s hair, stifling the urge to cry out. To scream. To curse. _To fucking flail_. 

He wanted to appear strong for Rin, so he bit it back. Swallowed it down. But it _hurt_. Like he’d just used his ribcage to neutralize the blast of a bomb. 

 

\--

 

 

Kakashi awoke to an empty bed and a familiar smell.

_ Mom? _

He blinked his eyes open, disoriented, before his apartment came into view. He threw on a shirt, before stumbling out of his room and into the kitchen.

Rin was there, standing over a skillet, spatula in hand. The counter was littered with stray pieces of cabbage, green onions, and a nob of ginger.

“ _Okonomiyaki_.”

He didn’t know if he’d said that out loud or not, but apparently he had, because Rin smiled up at him.

“I found Mom’s recipe last time we were at the house. I’ve never made it on my own before, so we’ll see how it goes,” she said, wiping at her brow with the back of her hand.

Kakashi felt an enormous wave of affection wash over him. That’s why Rin didn’t want him to go into the grocery store. She wanted to surprise him.

“I left out the meat, obviously. And I couldn’t find all the toppings either but I think— _umpf_ ”

Kakashi hugged her from behind, causing her breath to get caught.

“Thank you,” he said, tears stinging at his eyes.

 

 

\--

 

 

“Have you spoken to Itachi recently?” Rin asked, taking a bite of her breakfast. They were sitting across from each other on the floor, their plates on top of the coffee table that stood in front of the couch.

Kakashi shook his head no. Itachi cut off communication between them, when he started seeing Obito, even though it was Itachi who had suggested they meet. They went to the same school, and he figured Kakashi could use some extra support after the loss of his father. However, Itachi _never_ imagined they’d hook up, considering Obito had identified as straight his whole life. But… things changed, when he met Kakashi.

“Don’t you think it’s a sign that your best friend won’t talk to you?” Rin continued.

“He’s just jealous,” Kakashi said, flatly. The excuse he keep telling himself, to avoid the real reason.

“Oh _please_. Come on, K. You know him better than that. Maybe he’s a little hurt over it, fine. But”—

“Itachi and I broke up two years ago, Rin. And we dated for like a month.”

“You _always_ use that as a reason for why Itachi shouldn’t be hung up on you. He is well aware, thanks to you, that his feelings were unrequited. But a month with someone you really like, is plenty of time to get attached. He’s _still_ trying to separate his feelings from your friendship. And now you’re dating his cousin.”

“Second cousin.”

“Whatever. It’s still his family. Anyway, my point is… he’s worried about you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, because he doesn’t return my calls. And when he does, he refuses to talk to me for more than five minutes.”

“Because he doesn’t support you being with Obito.”

“Neither do you, or Tenzo, but you’re both still here,” Kakashi said, bitterly. He had to admit, he resented Itachi a little bit, for his distance. He felt abandoned by him.

“Don’t you see my point? Your best friend refuses to talk to you, because he can’t sit back and listen as you talk to him about your”—she swallowed—“relationship. He feels like an enabler, if he does. And maybe he deals with it differently than Tenzo and I, but it doesn’t mean we don’t feel that same way as Itachi. Itachi’s not the only one who’s worried about you.” 

“So you’ve been talking with Itachi, huh?” Kakashi said strongly, starting to feel ganged up on.

“You know I do. Don’t act like I’m doing something behind your back. We have our own relationship, you know. Outside of you.”

Kakashi scowled. _Yeah, but I know part of that relationship involves talking about me._

“ _Hey_ ,” she said softly, calling his attention back. “We just…we love you, alright? And I’m”—she started to choke up—“I’m really concerned, K. I _see_ things, you know. We all do. But me more than the others. And there are...some... some bruises and marks, that I—I know are not from boxing or your training, despite what you say, and”—she was crying now—“I just want it to stop. I don’t want him to hurt you anymore. I don’t want you to hurt _yourself_ , anymore. He’s taking advantage of your—your sadness and your pain. You deserve”—she heaved—“so much better.”

Kakashi’s heart twisted with pain. With guilt. With shame. He had no idea it was so obvious. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just Rin. He should have known his sister would figure it out. He wanted to crawl into a hole, and never come out.

_ “…Iruka?” _

 A small flicker of light.

_ “W-what?” _ he asked, not having heard the first part of the sentence, too busy trying to claw his way into that hole.

“What ever happened to Iruka? That boy you talked to me about a while ago?”

Now he _really_ wanted to disappear. He felt his ears grow hot.

“Oh, uh… He found out about Obito and refuses to talk to me.”

_ First, Itachi. Now Iruka. Seems like a pattern. _

“He ‘found out’? Meaning, you didn’t tell him until it was too late?”

“Something like that.”

“Kakashi…the way you talked about him… what if he”—

Kakashi felt himself snap, knowing exactly what she was going to say, because he’d thought the same thing, too.

—“and what if he isn’t?” he said. “I can’t—I don’t want to…” he trailed off.

_ Hurt _ . Anymore.

Rin was silent for a long time.

“Will you do me a favor? Please? The next time you see Iruka, will you pay attention to how you feel? Just focus on how your body reacts. Not your mind, your thoughts. Just your instincts. Compare it to how you feel when you see Obito. The difference will tell you everything.”

_ Alright, _ he sighed. _I can do that, I guess._

But he knew his chances of running into Iruka again were slim, especially since Iruka seemed to want nothing to do with him. They hadn’t had a single class together in _three and a half years,_ and there was one semester left.

It was only by chance that he went to Iruka’s workshop that Saturday, and he _almost_ didn’t go.

He didn’t think he’d be so lucky again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you being like what? Netflix? DVD’s? Hahah since NATA takes place in present day, this is set 10ish years ago when yes, Netflix sent dvds. XD 
> 
> Thoughts??? Feels??? Obito getting... sentimental?? What’s going on there?!?
> 
> Hatake tragic sadness? ( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ _ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) more details on that in the future. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! 🖤


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whewww! It’s been a while. To be honest, this chapter was a doozy. I needed it to be transitional but also interesting and emotional and it was much harder than I anticipated. 
> 
> I’ve re-read and edited it so many times that I just Need. To. Stop. So I can move forward. Hope you enjoy it anyway!!

Iruka scanned his new syllabus while his professor read through it. This was the class he was most excited about this semester—anthrozoology. It was a graduate level course, with an 80-page research paper as it’s final. He’d only have 2 and a half months to do it, instead of 4, given he was graduating early, but never-the-less, he was looking forward to it. 

He pulled out his notebook, as his professor booted up the powerpoint, along with several different colored pens, highlighters, and sticky tabs. His notes were neat, orderly, and color-coded; put into paper protectors and filed in a binder at the end of the day. Everyone made fun of him for it, until they were absent: it made him a go-to target when someone skipped class. He refused to share them with anyone, not thinking it was fair, unless he knew that person had actually been out sick, and even then, he photocopied them, instead of giving out his own.

They were 15 minutes into the lecture, before Iruka saw a flash of silver enter the room out of the corner of his eye. His stomach turned over.

No. 

_ No. _

This can’t be right. 

He must have the wrong classroom.

Kakashi climbed the stairs of the lecture hall, heading towards the back, without so much as a glance at his fellow students. Part of Iruka wanted to move, to do something to catch his attention, but he couldn’t. He sat there, frozen, except for his heart, which was beating twice as fast as usual, his whole body flushed with heat.

Iruka heard Kakashi fall into his seat, his keys dangling from a belt loop on his pants clacking loudly against the plastic. A few minutes later, he swore he could feel Kakashi’s eyes boring into the back of his head. Iruka closed his eyes and swallowed. Heat pricked at his skin, as he started to sweat, rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably. He willed himself to keep his attention forward, but despite his best efforts, he felt his head turn out of it’s own volition, like a moth drawn to a deadly flame. Before he knew it, he was turned around.

Iruka felt like he’d been struck by lightening—white hot heat pierced his chest, before it radiated out to electrocute the rest of his body, causing his fingers to twitch. 

He wasn’t imagining things.

Kakashi’s eyes were fiercely on him.

 

\--

 

Kakashi slouched into his seat, really not wanting to be here. The class sounded interesting enough, but he felt agitated. He’d gone to the gym before class (hence his tardiness), attempting to take it out on a punching bag, but it didn’t work. 

He reluctantly pulled out a notebook, knowing it’d remain blank until he left. He had a near photographic memory, but he did it to keep up appearances. Several professors had harped on him before, claiming he always came to class unprepared. You’d think his grades would be enough to persuade them that his methods were just fine, but he guessed it was some kind of superiority complex.

He sighed, bringing his attention up off the clean white page, and to the front of the room, when something caught his eye.

Or rather, someone.

Brown hair pulled up into a loose bun. Broad shoulders. Tan skin.

He straightened up immediately. 

_ Iruka?!  _

His heart pounded in his chest.

_ Impossible. No way. _

He fidgeted in his seat, suppressing the urge to sprint down and confirm it. Instead, he bore his eyes into the back of Iruka’s head.

_ Turn around. _

He saw Iruka scratch at the nape of his neck.

_ Come on, Iruka. I know you feel me. _

And then, as if in slow motion, Iruka began to turn around. Kakashi held his breath. 

Even from six rows away, the affect was instantaneous. Kakashi didn’t have to hold his breath anymore, because there was no breath to hold. It had been stolen straight from his lungs. It was over in a millisecond. All Iruka gave him was a quick glance, but it was enough. 

 

\--

 

Kakashi watched the clock like a hawk. Every few minutes his eyes flicked to it. _5 minutes left_. His body had been tense the whole class, waiting for the moment he could spring up and pounce.

Iruka hadn’t looked at him again, but Kakashi probably knew the thread count of his sweater by now. He couldn’t take his eyes off him—off the soft wispy hairs at the nape of his neck—except to look at the clock.

How is it that one look, no, _glance_ , from Iruka, made him feel like he was on top of Mt. _fucking_ Everest? With the rush that flew through him? With the vertigo that clouded his goddamn brain?

2 minutes. 

If Iruka wanted to avoid him, he could. He was in the front row, a few feet from the door. Kakashi would have to be incredibly quick, if he wanted to catch him. 

“That’s all for today. Read through Chapter 5 for Wednesday. Dismissed.”

Kakashi shoved his empty notebook in his bag and jumped out of his seat. He jogged his way down the steps, eyes flicking to Iruka all the while, who was already at the door, _shit_ , but he was almost there if he could just—a group of girls had stopped in the middle of the aisle to chat about something— _fuck._

“Excuse me,” he nearly growled, shoving past them, to startled sounds. “Sorry.”

But that few second blockade was enough. Once outside the door, he scanned both directions of the hall, but Iruka was nowhere in sight.

 

\--

 

When Wednesday rolled around, Kakashi tried his hardest to be on time to class. He knew Iruka was the type to get there early. If he couldn’t get him after class, he’d get him before.

Despite his best efforts, he was still ten minutes late.

He entered the room, pausing at the door, scanning the crowd.

_ There _ .

He spotted Iruka flanked by students on both sides.

_ Well, that’s not going to work. _

There was an empty seat two to Iruka’s left.

_ Bingo. _

_ \-- _

Iruka watched as Kakashi sidled his way down the crowded row towards him, his bag hitting people in the back of the head on the way.

Iruka felt heat crawl up his neck, over his ears, and eventually spread out across his cheeks—there were _plenty_ of seats elsewhere. 

“Do you mind scooting down a seat?” Kakashi asked the girl who was sitting to Iruka’s right. “I have problems with my eye,” Kakashi said, pointing up at his scar, “and this is the perfect spot.” But he wasn’t looking at the powerpoint, his eyes were locked on Iruka.

_ “Bullshit,” _ Iruka muttered, his face scarlet, as he slid further down his seat, his gaze fixed on the room before him.

The girl glanced back and forth between the two them, before giving Kakashi a disgruntled look, getting up, and plopping down into the next seat, sliding her notebook across the tabletop.

“Thanks,” Kakashi said, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and onto the ground. He sat down loudly, adjusting himself in the silence, while Iruka willed the floor to open up and swallow him whole. 

“This is nice,” Kakashi whispered, wiggling in his seat, as if it were made of leather and not hard plastic. “Great view, too. I’ve never sat in the front.”

Iruka could see Kakashi out of the corner of his eye, trying to catch his attention, but he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. Honestly, what the hell was Kakashi trying to do? In the middle of class? Being this close to Kakashi sent his nervous system into panic mode, into fight or flight—he tightened his fists, suppressing the urge, as his body clearly chose the former.

Iruka couldn’t yell at him here. Was that Kakashi’s plan?

Kakashi scribbled something onto a piece of paper, ripped it out, and placed it on top of Iruka’s notebook.

_Hi._  :) 

Iruka quickly crumpled it up and threw it at Kakashi’s face.

“Rude,” Kakashi chuckled.

Iruka whipped his head to the side to gawk at Kakashi.

“You’re lucky that wasn’t a brick!” Iruka seethed.

“He speaks!” Kakashi proclaimed.

Iruka snapped his mouth shut, and went back to jotting down notes.

“ _Iruka.”_

Iruka remained fixated on his notebook. The soft plead in Kakashi’s voice had him feeling like a snake had coiled around his throat and  _squeezed_. Iruka swallowed hard, trying to release the tension, but it only made him clench his jaw.

Kakashi lightly put his hand to Iruka’s wrist, stopping the frantic movements of his pen, causing Iruka to jump out of his skin, almost right out of his chair, at the unexpected touch. It shocked him straight down to his core.

“Mr. Hatake. You already disrupted people by your entrance. If you insist on being disruptive, you can leave.”

“Can I bring Iruka with me? I’m not done talking to him yet.”

The whole room came to a halt.

Iruka shot daggers at him.

“We have nothing to talk about,” Iruka hissed.

“Both of you, _out_.”

Iruka’s mouth hung open in surprise, before he shut it, angrily grabbing his things, and shoving them into his bag.

Once outside of the classroom, Iruka tried to book it, but Kakashi was hot on his heels, grabbing onto the strap of Iruka’s messenger bag.

“Would you stop for a minute?” But Iruka continued to walk forward, pulling against Kakashi’s grip. “ _Iruka_. Can we not make this harder than it needs to be?” 

Iruka screeched to a stop.

“Harder— _harder_ than it nee…” Iruka trailed off, pulling in a shaky breath, pinching at the bridge of his nose, as he tried to settle himself down.

“Talk to me,” Kakashi prompted him.

 “You want to talk?! After nothing but silence from you for two weeks!? Do you have _any_ fucking idea what kind of message that sent, after what happened between us?”

“I went to your apartment. To try and explain”—

“But I wasn’t there! And apparently that was the extent of your effort!”

Kakashi leaned back, surprised, dropping his hand from Iruka’s bag.

“You told me to stop calling you, so I did,” he said, confused, his brow furrowing.

Kakashi thought he was being respectful, but something in Iruka’s face told him that wasn’t what he should have done.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Shit.

He didn’t know. He’d never…done anything like this before. He took Iruka literally, realizing now it was a mistake. A colossal one.

He should have called. _Fuck_.

“Are you”— _really that dense? That emotionally incompetent? Why would I ever want you to stop calling me?_ But Iruka wasn’t about to give Kakashi another in. Not when he wasn’t sure—“still with your boyfriend?”

Kakashi could almost _feel_ Iruka shaking—his energy was palpable, buzzing around him like a swarm of protective bees ready to strike.

Kakashi looked at him painfully, wishing he could give a different answer. The one Iruka wanted. Iruka was giving him another chance, right now, and he was going to shit all over it.

“It’s not that easy, Iruka. There’s so much—we’re not even—,” A real couple? Kakashi heaved an aggravated sigh _._ How could he explain this in the middle of the _fucking_ hallway? 

Watching Kakashi grasp for words, for excuses, made Iruka sick. All of his clarity from talking with Omoi, became clouded by his anger. Maybe there _was_ something he wasn’t seeing, but right now, he didn’t want to _see_ Kakashi at all, let alone put in the effort to try and look underneath the underneath.

“Can we just—,”

“—forget it, Kakashi, alright? I have,” Iruka lied, his voice wavering, as he turned on his heel.

That stung Kakashi deep; those bees pummeling straight into his heart, leaving it as pocked as honeycomb, before it slid right down to his feet, dripping all over the floor.

Iruka was over this? He didn’t want to try?

In his few moments of stunned hesitation, Iruka had already made it down the stairs and out of the building.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn’t notice, I finally put a chapter count... at 21! 
> 
> (° o°)! 
> 
> I’ve mapped out the rest of the fic, and will hopefully be on a somewhat regular posting schedule, until it’s complete. 
> 
> I should have the next chapter up by this weekend/early next week. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support of this story!! 
> 
> Are you pissed off/annoyed with them yet? (￣ヘ￣) Hahah 🖤
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://ladyxxdaydream.tumblr.com/)!!


	11. Chapter 11

Iruka felt the excited buzz that usually hummed through him at the start of a show, the alcohol heightening the effect. Kotetsu had invited him out tonight, and when Iruka had asked whether or not Izumo would be joining them, he was finally able to recognize the interest in Kotetsu’s voice. Maybe it was because several people in his life had been telling him to give Kotetsu a chance lately, or his utter frustration and heartbreak with Kakashi, but whatever the reason, he had accepted Kotetsu’s loosely veiled date.  
  
If he thought about it for more than a fraction of a second, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. Neither of those reasons were the right pretenses for exploring if there was any potential between Kotetsu and himself, but Iruka was feeling uncharacteristically reckless. Besides, he was planning on coming to this show anyway, able it alone. He was big fan of Death from Above 1979, and if Kotetsu wanted to share this experience with him, well then he’d enjoy the company.    
  
Despite his excitement, Iruka still felt on edge, anxious for Kotetsu to make it back to him with his second drink so he could drown it out. He had dreaded going to class this morning, not wanting to see Kakashi. He hadn’t seen or heard from Kakashi since Wednesday (it was now Friday); not since they’d been kicked out of class and argued in the hallway. He had all but held his breath for the first twenty minutes of this morning’s lecture, eyes flicking to the open door at any sign of movement, waiting for the second Kakashi strolled in, but he never did. Kakashi hadn’t been running late—he didn’t show up at all.   
  
Iruka rubbed at his nose in frustration. He came out tonight to forget about that. Forget about Kakashi. After all, he told Kakashi that he _had_ forgotten about it. Forgotten about… whatever the fuck went on between them. It was clearly a lie, but he said it none-the-less. Iruka was never one to adopt the “fake it till you make it” mantra, but he’d been seriously doubting his own strategies lately, so maybe it was time for a new one.   
  
“Sorry it took so long,” Kotetsu said, holding their drinks above his head, so they wouldn’t spill as he made his way back. “ _Hay un montón de gente aquí_.” (there’s a ton of people here)  
  
“I’m not surprised. This band is pretty big, in the right scene. _Gracias_ ,” Iruka said, reaching for his long island iced tea—a ridiculous mess of trashy ingredients—but it was boozy as fuck, and Iruka knew one would be enough to get him where he wanted to be.   
  
“Ah. Honestly, I’ve never listened to them, but I knew you liked them so…” Kotetsu gave a little shrug before taking a swig of his beer. _“Quieres acercarte más?”_ (Wanna move closer?) he leaned in to ask, as the band began to take their places onstage.   
  
“No, I’m over that. I loved it when I was younger—”  
  
“— _porque eres tan viejo ahora_ ," (because you’re _so old_ now) Kotetsu teased, grinning as he knocked an elbow into him.  
  
Iruka let out a small laugh.   
  
“I don’t feel like being pushed around, or pressed up against sweaty, smelly, bodies of strangers, barely able to breathe.  _Si eso me hace viejo, pues_ …” (If that makes me old, then…) Iruka shrugged.  
  
“Fair enough,” Kotetsu laughed. “That doesn’t sound enticing to me either.”  
  
  
—  
  
  
Iruka bobbed his head to the rather abrasive sound of the guitar, the opening riff to his favorite song on the album. When the drums kicked in, he started to move the rest of his body to the beat, the alcohol humming warmly through his veins.  
  
 _“You're beating walls now you just won't quit_  
 _You play with shapes but they just won't fit._  
 _I know you love me, you don't know what you like”_  
  
…Iruka sang along, smiling to himself, his long ponytail swinging as he moved his head. _Fuck, it felt good to be drunk, and loose, and carefree,_ he thought. Iruka let the music pulse through him, felt it resound in his chest, chasing out any tight tension that remained. He let his eyes flick about the venue, the colored lights bouncing here and there off the crowd. Between the moving bodies he caught a glimpse of what looked like Deidara, dancing with a rather short girl, whose hair looked like fire—red with orange bleeding through. Just as he was about to weasel his way over to Deidara to say hey, he saw a shock of silver hair slightly behind him.   
  
_Kakashi._  
  
Everyone around him had started to clap with their hands above their heads as the vocalist sang out:  
  
 _Come here baby I love your company_  
 _we could do it and start a family_  
  
Iruka stood stock still. His eyes flicked down Kakashi’s body to see a pair of hands snake around his waist, a black-haired boy speaking into his ear.  
  
 _Obito._  
  
Iruka felt like his world was turning in slow motion. The crowd started to jump in time to the beat, but Iruka remained stuck to the floor, unable to move; unflinching, as his shoulders were knocked into. Kakashi’s eyes found him as the vocalist repeated:  
  
 _Come here baby I love your company_  
 _we could do it and start a family_  
 _we could do it, it’s right romantically_  
  
They stared at each other in shock for a few seconds. And then everything happened so fast—Obito ran his hands up Kakashi’s chest. Iruka’s gut violently twisted. Kotetsu touched the small of his back and maybe asked Iruka if he was okay but Iruka couldn’t hear, couldn’t think—the frantic beat of the music making him dizzy; instead he turned around and smashed his mouth against Kotetsu’s, puling him into a messy, dirty kiss. When Kotetsu started to kiss him back, he broke away and fled for the door.

  
  
—

  
  
Kakashi felt Obito’s hands find his hips, felt the slight pull backwards, but refused to budge. Just as he was contemplating whether or not it would be worth the argument to remove Obito’s hands, he glanced to his side and spotted Iruka, standing motionless amidst the rowdy crowd, staring right at him. A million thoughts raced through Kakashi’s mind but the first one he seemed to latch onto was _fuck, it should be illegal for Iruka to be looking like that_.   
  
His hair was pulled into a long high ponytail, the front of it swept upwards from his face, and backcombed into a pompadour. His black, long-sleeved shirt was well-worn and distressed, reminiscent of lace, his bare skin peeking through. The loose red bandana around his neck provided a bold swatch of color that Kakashi found both ridiculously sexy and highly provocative—Iruka was fucking _beautiful_.   
  
But then Obito’s hands crawled up his chest and Iruka’s face contorted with pain and Iruka was fucking _kissing?!_ somebody and Kakashi’s body had ignited with a fierce desire to _rip_ them apart. He took a step forward, unable to stop himself, as Iruka fled. Kakashi wrenched out of Obito’s hold and tried to follow him out.

  
—

  
Iruka burst into the night air. The cold wind hitting his face after being so hot, only intensified his queasiness. He turned the corner to go vomit in an alley next to a dumpster—his long island iced tea burning his throat on the way up.  
  
What the fuck.   
  
What. The. Fuck.  
  
WHAT THE FUCK!  
  
He slammed his hand on top of the dumpster where he was bracing himself.   
  
Iruka backed up a few paces before he fell to his knees, scooting back his butt to lean against the brick wall of the venue.   
  
This was out of control—out of _his_ control.   
  
Iruka ran his shaking hands over his thighs as he stared at the pavement between his bent knees, his heart racing, his breath quick, trying to calm himself down.  
  
Why did Kakashi make him feel so _fucking_ dismantled?!  
  
It wasn’t fair.   
  
He tilted his head towards the sky, his throat quivering, before he choked out a dry sob, the soles of his boots scarping against the gravel, as he twisted with frustration. Here he was, _again_ , on another stretch of goddamn pavement, trying to stop an onslaught of tears over Kakashi.   
  
Iruka pulled his phone out of his back pocket as it rang, wiping away a tear with the back of his hand.  
  
 _Kotetsu._ Fuck.   
  
Iruka ignored it, turning his phone on vibrate in the process. He’d find another way home. He couldn’t face Kotetsu. Not now. He felt like a goddamn coward, and an asshole, for kissing his friend when he didn’t mean it.  
  
His phone buzzed again, rumbling across the pavement, as Kakashi’s name flashed at him from the screen. Iruka fought back the compulsion to smash his phone against the brick wall. Instead, he pulled his knees into his chest and cried.

  
—

  
Kakashi held his phone to his ear with one hand, anxiously listening to the dial tone, as he ran the other through his thick hair, before it came to rest on top of his head.

Nothing.  
  
He paced in front of the venue, as he dialed again.   
  
Voicemail.   
  
_Goddammit, Iruka!_  
  
If Kakashi had walked just a little further, across the break in the sidewalk, he would have found Iruka slumped against the wall in the alley.  
  
If Iruka’s phone wasn’t on vibrate, Kakashi might of even heard it ring.   
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o,O
> 
> A short one today, BUT I'll be back tomorrow (I think), with the next chapter. It just needs a few more edits.
> 
> kjdogks;ldkklKJ SOMEONE PLEASE HELP THESE IDIOTS.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not tomorrow yettttt but I had an unexpected chunk of free time to do the edits....and I'm feeling generous.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions & descriptions of suicide.

_Kakashi was walking up the stairs of his childhood home, feet treading soft against the carpet. He paused in front of his Dad’s door and gave a light knock._  
  
_“Dad? We’re back. Rin and I brought dinner…”_  
  
_He waited for a moment. Upon hearing no sound, he pushed the crack of the door open wider and stepped inside._  
  
_“Dad?” he said, barely able to see his form because the blinds were drawn._  
  
_He contemplated whether or not to wake him, but it was 5:00 and he knew his Father had barely eaten a thing all day._  
  
_He crossed the room and opened the blinds a bit, letting in some light. The sun felt oddly imposing. Out of place. All of a sudden, it felt hard to breathe. As if most of the air had been sucked out of the room and what was left was stale and old. Kakashi was still facing the window, the curtain clutched in his hand, suddenly afraid to turn around._  
  
_He turned around to look at his Father, the light now illuminating his figure. He was tucked into the covers, up to his chest, as if in a deep, peaceful sleep. His face was pale white, the same as his son’s, except his lips were drained of color, too._  
  
_“Dad?!” Kakashi said, crossing to his bed in two quick strides. He gave him a small shake on the shoulder but got no response._  
  
_His eyes fell heavy on the blanket; it didn’t seem peaceful anymore. It hung dangerous, like a veil. Kakashi knew if he looked beneath it, there would be no going back. He reached for the cloth and pulled it back with trembling hands, slowly at first, but once he caught a glimpse of what lay beneath, he ripped it back entirely._  
  
_The sheets were saturated with a pool of blood, all stemming from a singe source—a deep, grotesque gash in his wrist. Clutched in the opposite hand was a bottle of antidepressants, empty of it’s contents._  
  
_“No,” Kakashi said weakly, in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was in front of him._  
  
_“No,” he said, a little bit louder._  
  
_He picked up his Dad’s arm, getting blood all over his hands in the process, and clutched it to his chest._  
  
_“No. No no no no no.” he said, panic rising within him, before it racked his chest, and split him open._  
  
_Kakashi started to cry, his body trembling all over, like he’d been caught in the freezing cold._  
  
_“NO!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, as tears streamed down his face._  
  
—  
  
Kakashi jolted awake, his body covered in a thin layer of cold sweat. He lifted his head off the pillow, inciting a blinding headache to ricochet around his brain, followed by a dull pain in his ass. He shifted in bed, wincing in the process, feeling like he got hit by a goddamn train. He barely glanced at Obito’s bare back as he sat up.  
  
Immediately, the room spun, a wave of nausea overtaking him. He stumbled his way to the kitchen, since it was closer than the bathroom, and vomited into the sink.  
  
_Fuck,_ he cursed inside his mind, barely able to hear his own thoughts over the ringing in his ears. He heaved two more times before he felt the slightest sense of relief.  
  
He heard a pair of soft boots clicking on the floor behind him, followed by the crash of keys and a purse being thrown onto the kitchen table.  
  
“What the hell happened to you?” came Deidara’s voice, who was rooted to the spot. His eyes roved over Kakashi’s back, who was hunched over the sink in nothing but his briefs. His shoulders and hips were peppered in ugly, dark bruises, and angry red scratches lined both sides of his spine.  
  
“Obito happened,” Kakashi slurred, spitting into the sink.  
  
Deidara crossed over to him, grabbing a wad of paper towels first.  
  
“How many times has this happened now? Last time they were in places you couldn’t hide. You need to talk to somebody about this. It’s abusive, Kakashi.”  
  
“I let him do it. It’s _con...consensual_.”  
  
“And?!” Deidara said, placing a hand on his hip in anger, as the other held out the paper towels. “All the more reason. Getting the shit beat out of you, isn’t going to make your grief go away, honey. That’s a fucked up form of therapy. I know it’s not just rough sex you’re having.”  
  
Kakashi took the paper towels from him and wiped at his mouth, bringing himself to look at Deidara for the first time. He was wearing a light gray sweater dress with thick black stockings, and flat tan boots that went up to his knees. His lips were painted a subtle red, his lashes lengthened with mascara, and his hair styled in loose, long waves. It was such an utter contrast to Deidara’s usual appearance, that Kakashi knew he’d just gotten home from seeing a client. He must have gone back out, after the concert. Even though it was so starkly different from Deidara’s personal style, something about it was familiar.  
  
A crippling sense of deja-vu overtook Kakashi—it was something his mother would have worn. The only thing that was missing, was her white hair, the same absurd length as Deidara’s.  
  
Kakashi had loved his mother’s hair. He had thought it made her look regal. Powerful. Yet… he was the one who had stripped her of it. She had asked him to shave her head, when the chemo started to make it fall out.  
  
Kakashi turned his head to the sink and heaved again. And again. But it was dry, having emptied the contents of his gut moments before. He staggered at the sink, still completely drunk, his eyes glassy and full of tears.  
  
“Come on, sweetheart,” Deidara said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “It’s three in the morning. Let’s get you to bed.” He lifted one of Kakashi’s arms over his shoulders and attempted to walk, but Kakashi slumped against him. If he hadn’t clutched the sink with his free hand, Deidara would have toppled over.  
  
“Baby, I’m going to need you to help me,” Deidara said, his small frame sagging beneath Kakashi’s weight. “Come on,” he said, giving Kakashi’s bare abdomen a few slaps. “Show me what these muscles are for.”  
  
Kakashi managed to lift himself up, and with the help of Deidara, they eventually made it to Deidara’s room, which thankfully, was on the first floor of the house.  
  
Dei removed some of his throw pillows and pulled the comforter back, helping Kakashi get situated, before changing out of his clothes.  
  
Kakashi sunk into the bed, barely able to hold onto a single thought. Now that he was in a bed that wasn’t Obito’s, he felt himself relax in a new way. He felt safe—pounds of tension sloughing off his body.  
  
And then, Iruka floated up to the forefront of his mind, surprising him. Despite the events of last night, he wanted to see him. To hear his voice. His laugh. To… have Iruka hold him. He knew Iruka would kiss his bruises. Trace his fingers softly over the scratches on his back, because that’s the kind of person Iruka was.

That tender image brought more pain to Kakashi’s heart, than anything his battered body had experienced so far.  
  
“Dei,” Kakashi croaked, half-asleep, as Deidara was crawling under the covers beside him.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“I think…” he said, starting to lose consciousness. “I think I’m falling in lo...ve..” he pushed out. _With Iruka_. But his name died on his lips, as he passed out from exhaustion.  
  
Deidara looked at him in surprise. watching Kakashi’s face relax, as sleep overtook him.  
  
He knew he wasn’t going to say with Obito, and he didn’t have the slightest clue as to who it could be. He smoothed some hair away from Kakashi’s forehead, and planted a light kiss there.  
  
“I hope you remember in the morning, you big softie,” Deidara said, before rolling over to switch off the lamp, and going to sleep.  
  
—  
  
Kakashi awoke clutching a large plush zebra to his chest, his nose nuzzled in it’s mane.  
  
“What the fuck?” he muttered, blinking his eyes open, as Deidara’s room came into focus. “How in the hell…?”  
  
He had absolutely no memory of how he ended up here.  
  
Kakashi sat up, a headache still knocking on his skull, to realize he was only clad in his red briefs. For one impossible second, he panicked, looking over at Deidara, who was sleeping soundly with a pink mask over his eyes.  
  
_No. No fucking way. I’d never have sex with Dei._  
  
Out of all of Obito’s housemates, Deidara was the only one he considered a friend, and even then, they didn’t know each other well.  
  
Quickly shaking that thought out of his mind, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and found his clothes neatly folded on the night table. He smiled to himself as he got dressed, making a mental note to spoil Deidara with something later, and left without so much as a peak into his boyfri…into Obito's room.  
  
When Kakashi reached his car, he pulled his hand back from door as if it’d been burned, a memory from last night flashing before his mind: _Iruka kissing somebody_. A tight ball of pain lodged itself in his chest as he clutched his keys painfully in his palm.  
  
He slid into his seat and slammed the door shut.  
  
—  
  
Iruka awoke to a loud consistent knocking that matched the throbbing of his headache. He squinted his eyes at the sun, which only further irritated the pulsing of his temples. The knocking wouldn’t let up.  
  
Kurenai was out of town for the weekend, so it was up to him to get the door, because it seemed whoever it was, wasn’t going to go the fuck away.  
  
He got up and stumbled to the door, his legs feeling rather weak, passing a glass and a bottle of rum on the counter.  
  
Damn. Just how much did he drink when he got home last night? And alone, too? That wasn’t like him.  
  
The knocking continued.  
  
“Fuck. I’m coming,” he cursed, as he stubbed his toe on the leg of the coffee table.  
  
He swung open the door, still feeling completely disoriented.  
  
“Can I help you?” he spat out, not really looking at who it was.  
  
—  
  
  
Kakashi wasn’t expecting for Iruka to open the door looking like that. No shirt. Loose pants that were hanging off his hips. His hair still in a tie but messy and disheveled, falling out all over the place. He knew Iruka was fit but this… he wasn’t ready for this. Whatever semblance of a plan he had, which wasn’t much to begin with, disintegrated. Good thing he had mastered keeping his face void of emotion years ago.  
  
Kakashi watched, as Iruka blinked his eyes into focus, waiting for his reaction.  
  
Iruka let out an exasperated laugh and went to shut the door in his face, but Kakashi regained his composure in time to stop it with his hand.  
  
Iruka whipped the door open again.  
  
“What do you want?” he demanded.  
  
“Who was that?” Kakashi blurted.  
  
Yep. No plan.  
  
“What?” Iruka gaped.  
  
Iruka had no idea what he was talking about, and frankly, he didn’t care.  
  
“Last night at the show. _Who was that?_ ” Kakashi asked, again.  
  
Iruka had just woken up. He hadn’t even had time to think about last night, let alone remember what it contained. He paused for a minute, racking his memory, and then… oh. Kotetsu. He had kissed Kotetsu in front of Kakashi.  
  
Anger seared through him.  
  
“ _You have no fucking right_ to come here like this and demand an answer from me,” Iruka said. “It’s none of your goddamn business, Kakashi.”  
  
_If someone is touching you that isn’t me, it’s my goddamn business_ , Kakashi thought, even though he knew Iruka was right. Even though he knew he was being entirely unreasonable. But if he said that, he’d have to deal with the fact that he actually wanted Iruka, and not just physically, however painfully obvious that was to him now.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?” Kakashi railed on, completely ignoring what Iruka had just said.  
  
“Oh? Does it piss you off that I kept something from you? How does it feel, huh?! Fucking great, right?!” Iruka fumed.  
  
Kakashi went to retort but bit it back as Iruka continued to speak.  
  
“And who said I was seeing him? What if it was just a one night stand?”  
  
Jealously raged through Kakashi again.  
  
“Is he here?” Kakashi seethed, taking a step forward, wanting to drag the man out of Iruka’s bed by his goddamn hair and toss him on the fucking curb.  
  
“If you come into my apartment uninvited, I will not hesitate to hurt you,” Iruka threatened, determined not to give Kakashi any satisfaction by answering his question.  
  
They stared at each other in a heated silence, both of their chests heaving from how fast their hearts were beating.  
  
Kakashi couldn’t decide whether he wanted to fight Iruka or fuck him or _be_ fucked by him—as his eyes flicked to Iruka’s bare torso for the umpteenth time, lingering on his prominent hip bones for a fraction of a second. His cock gave a twitch, giving him his answer. _Goddammit._  
  
Iruka noticed his stare.  
  
“Like what you see?” Iruka mocked him, confidently.  
  
Kakashi flushed at being called out, feeling like the rug had been pulled out from beneath him. He’d never been confronted with a personality that was as strong as his own before. It pissed him off.  
  
“Fuck you, Iruka.” Kakashi said, before turning on his heel and heading swiftly down the stairs.     
  
“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you!” Iruka yelled at his back, knowing it was childish, before slamming the door shut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh.... does this count as progress... or...???
> 
> (；一_一)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A posting schedule? ...whats that? never heard it.
> 
>    
> (grab your popcorn, Starlingthefool, lmaooo)
> 
> O.o

Iruka collapsed into bed, face first in his pillow, feeling like he wanted to scream until he passed out.  
  
What was _that?_ Some sort of fucked up interrogation?  
  
He had been trying to get over Kakashi. Let him go. And then Kakashi shows up at his doorstep, acting like a jealous boyfriend, sending the biggest, most infuriating, mixed signals.  
  
The intensity of his jealousy was entirely unexpected and…  
  
_No._  
  
_Don’t you dare,_ Iruka scorned his body, flipping onto his back. He refused to get aroused at Kakashi’s expense. Not now. Not after… that.  
  
But Kakashi had been very obviously checking him out. His eyes had traveled down his body, more than once, as if he couldn’t help it, coming to rest at the band of his pants.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
**No.**  
  
Iruka sat up, pulling his hair out of its tie, messing it up with his hand, as it cascaded over his shoulders. More memories from last night flooded into his mind, with some sizable gaps.  
  
How did he even get home?  
  
He reached for his phone, looking at it for the first time since last night. He checked his outgoing calls first.  
  
_Asuma._ Ah. Kurenai’s boyfriend. Wow. He scratched at his scar, feeling slightly embarrassed about that. He didn’t know him well, and Kurenai wasn’t even here.  
  
He sighed before clicking over to his missed phone calls.  
  
3 from Kotetsu, all with voicemails, and _9_ from Kakashi (no voicemails.) Jesus. They must have came through when he was passed out.  
  
He browsed his messages next. There were two from Kotetsu, slightly panicked, asking if he was alright. None from Kakashi, but that didn’t surprise him much. He knew Kakashi didn’t text if he could help it.  
  
Iruka stared at Kotetsu’s unanswered messages. He had disappeared right after he kissed him. Shit. And the worst part was, he hadn’t kissed him out of his own desire. He did it out of reaction to seeing Kakashi with his boyfriend—he had used Kotetsu completely.  
  
Iruka felt terrible, and wanted to apologize as soon as possible.  
  
_Yes, I’m fine,_ he typed out. _Do you want to meet me for breakfast?_  
  
\--  
  
Iruka slipped into the booth at Sandra’s, a diner that looked like it was stuck in the 1950’s. Kotetsu was already there, sipping on what looked like a chocolate milkshake. The thought of it made Iruka’s stomach turn.  
  
_“Estas vivo!”_ (You’re alive!) Kotetsu teased.  
  
“Barely,” Iruka said, while catching the attention of a passing waitress to order a cup of strong black coffee.  
  
He caught Kotetsu staring at him.  
  
“I look like shit, I know. Go on, revel in it,” Iruka said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. He was wearing a black baseball cap, his hair pulled into a low messy bun at the base of his neck. “I’ve had… a rough morning.” More like _bizarre,_ but he wasn’t about to get into that.  
  
“You could never look like shit, but you’ve looked better, yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this hungover,” Kotetsu laughed. “I’m glad you invited me out.”  
  
Kotetsu looked so genuinely pleased, that Iruka felt like the biggest asshole in the world.  
  
Iruka sighed, taking a sip of his coffee that had just arrived.  
  
“Look, Ko. I’m sorry about last night. I’m sorry I kissed you,” he said, getting right to the point.  
  
“Don’t be,” Kotetsu grinned. “I’m not. I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. I finally know what it’s like.”  
  
Iruka tried not to wince at the admittance. He wanted to let Ko down as gingerly as possible, hoping they could still salvage their friendship, but Iruka also wasn’t one to mince words.  
  
“I disappeared on you, Kotetsu. That wasn’t right. It was fucking rude and… irresponsible. And I’m not…” Iruka glanced out the window to his left. How could he explain this? This stupid _thing_ that had latched onto his heart and refused to let go.  
  
“I’m not in a place where I can date anyone. I’m not emotionally available right now. I have…” Iruka paused, trying to think of an accurate word to describe Kakashi. “I have some shit I need to deal with.”    
  
“It’s okay,” Kotetsu said simply, fiddling with his straw. “I did wonder why after months of asking you out, you finally accepted. I wanted to see what happened, despite my better judgment, so you’re not entirely at fault here. But you were kinda absent the whole evening and that gave me my answer. I know when someone’s mind is somewhere else. So, it’s alright. I’m not really surprised by what you’re telling me.”  
  
Iruka looked up at him, shocked.  
  
What was wrong with him? Why _wasn’t_ he interested in Kotetsu? He was handsome, smart, kind, compassionate (obviously), a star athlete. They had a lot of the same interests. And Iruka knew Ko was genuinely into him. He wasn’t just looking for a hook-up, which made this whole thing even worse.  
  
“I like you Iruka,” Kotetsu continued, as if he could read his mind. “I always have. But I can get over it, now that I know what my chances are. It’s not a big deal. I’d still like to be your friend, which is why I came here. I didn’t have any expectations, so you can relax a little.”  
  
Iruka felt relieved, but no less guilty.  
  
“I’d like to keep being your friend, too.”  
  
“Good. _Quieres ordenar algo?”_ (do you want to order something?)  
  
_“Por favor,”_ Iruka said, his stomach having growled at him angrily several minutes ago.  
  
\--  
  
Halfway through his meal, Iruka looked up to see Kakashi staring at him from across the diner, brown paper bag in hand. It was like some weird reenactment of last night, with a completely different setting.  
  
Having Iruka notice him must have broken Kakashi out of his trance, because he dashed for the door without looking back.  
  
Iruka dropped his fork onto his plate with a clack, his blood running hot.  
  
_“Discuple,”_ (excuse me) he said to Kotetsu, throwing his napkin off his lap and onto the seat, before hurrying out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
Iruka weaved his way through the tables, and out the glass door, catching Kakashi in the parking lot, about to get into his car.  
  
“Hey!” Iruka shouted. “Did you follow me here?”  
  
It was a stupid question, and Iruka knew it, judging by how hot his ears were burning. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask that or why he was even here in the parking lot to begin with or what he was even _doing_. All he knew is that he saw Kakashi, and immediately reacted.  
  
Kakashi placed the bag on top of his car before turning around.  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself Iruka. I just came to pick something up.”  
  
“For your boyfriend?”  
  
Kakashi squared his body to him, recognizing the challenge in Iruka’s tone, taking him in fully since they first started talking. Iruka was wearing black spandex leggings, a Brand New band t-shirt, an oversized red flannel, and a beige circle scarf. On his feet were a pair of gray, high top Converse.  
  
_Why did he have to look so painfully adorable?_ Kakashi cursed. _Fuck._  
  
In truth, the food was for his roommate, but Kakashi decided to leave Iruka hanging the same way he left him earlier. Except, that _was_ the guy from last night, so Iruka must have spent the night with him.  
  
Kakashi felt bile threatening to come up the back of his throat.  
  
“Go back to your date, Iruka,” Kakashi said, before getting into the car and starting it up.  
  
As much as Iruka thought it would be pure fucking karma to watch Kakashi drive away with the food still on top of his car, Iruka walked over, grabbed the bag, and held it in front of his window, giving it a tap.  
  
Kakashi struggled to keep his blush under control. This was the second time in less than 24 hours that Iruka had made him feel like an idiot. He contemplated spinning out of the parking lot, leaving Iruka standing there with his food in hand, but he was starving, and Tenzo was waiting on him.  
  
Kakashi reluctantly rolled down his window, grabbing for the bag, but when he went to pull it inside, he was met with resistance. They stayed in this silent tug of war for a moment, Iruka’s eyes boring into him, causing his own to downcast. Kakashi didn’t trust himself in the tension because it was too fucking delicious, so he used the most reliable weapon in his arsenal: his ability to be an insensitive prick.  
  
_Aim._  
  
Kakashi met Iruka’s eyes and locked on.  
  
_Shoot._  
  
“Does your date know you came out here to flirt with me? I didn’t peg you for the two-timing type, Iruka. I thought you were better than that.”  
  
Iruka’s face contorted with rage, as he heaved in an audible breath through his nose, and preceded to explode.  
  
_“Excuse me?!_ Who came to _my_ door this morning filled with obvious jealously behind their boyfriend’s fucking back?” Iruka bit out. He was so upset, he was shaking.  
  
_Bullseye._  
  
Kakashi snatched the bag out of Iruka’s hand, taking advantage of his distraction.  
  
“Yeah, well, _I_ never said I was better than that. We’re different.”  
  
He reversed out of the parking space, and took off.  
  
Iruka stood there, stunned. Did Kakashi just backhandedly compliment him? What the fuck was going on?  
  
“It’s not even a date, _cabrón!_ (asshole!)” Iruka yelled into the wind—startling an elderly couple passing by—knowing Kakashi was well out of earshot, as he watched him hightail down the road.  
  
\--  
  
Iruka nearly stomped backed inside, sliding into his spot in the booth, feeling defeated. He looked down at his half-eaten plate, no longer hungry.  
  
“Well, I’m guessing that was the shit you were talking about,” Kotetsu said, giving him a small, sympathetic smile.  
  
Iruka nodded his head, biting into his bottom lip, in hope that it would stop himself from crying.    
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I should be concerned with how much you all are enjoying the hurt.... hahaha XD
> 
> BUT I will say that it'll be considerably... less angry. So if you're tired of the angst, it's reached its peak. 
> 
> thank you for all your support & comments! they really make this a whole lot more fun (I mean... not fun... no... of course not.. *coughs*)
> 
> also, iruka has been crying way too much for my liking. djghjkdk;as


	14. Chapter 14

  
  
“Thanks for coming by, Rin,” Tenzo said, as she went to unbuckle her seat beat. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”  
  
“Of course. Thanks for calling me. Please call if anything changes or if he gets worse, alright?”  
  
Tenzo gave her a curt nod.  
  
She put her hand on the door, and then hesitated.  
  
“You’ve met Iruka, right?” she asked, turning back to him.  
  
“Yeah, once. Kakashi invited him over to the apartment one night.”  
  
“How were they together?” she wondered. All she knew was what Kakashi looked liked when he talked about Iruka and honestly, it was enough, but she was still curious.  
  
“Well, I wasn’t around them for very long, but it was long enough to see Kakashi blush and stutter like an idiot in love. I don’t really… ah, fuck it,” Tenzo said, running his hand along the steering wheel. “I was going to say I don’t really want to meddle in his personal life, but look how Kakashi got today, after a run in with Iruka—it’s so obvious. I’m not saying we should shove him into Iruka’s arms, I think Iruka is too cautious for that anyway, based on how he’s reacted so far. It’s going to take some easing but I think—.”  
  
“—Kakashi needs him,” she said, the realization dawning on her too.  
  
Tenzo sighed, and nodded. “Yeah, I think he does. I think Iruka may be the only person that can get Kakashi to let Obito go. Kakashi needs to feel like he’s worth something, and Iruka gives him that. I’ve seen it, before this whole fiasco happened.”  
  
Rin gave Tenzo a small parting smile, before hopping out of his car. She debated whether or not to catch a bus to Obito’s house and give him a piece of her mind, but she’d always been a little afraid of him. Uncomfortable. She caught him looking at her one too many times, the way men do when they want something she was never willing to give.  
  
She headed back inside her dorm instead. She had plenty of assignments to do anyway. And tomorrow, she was going to start her search for Iruka. _Somebody_ had to do _something_ , and apparently it wasn’t going to be either of them. She didn’t have much to go off of, except for his major, and a vague idea of what he looked like, but it was better than nothing.  
  
  
—  
  
Rin had been sitting against a tree for the better part of an hour, staking out the Biology building. So far, no one fit the description she was looking for. She ate the final strawberry from her container, before snapping it shut and shoving it into her backpack, resigning herself. She had class in 15 minutes—she’d try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that, until she found him.  
  
As she stood up, someone walked past her, making her skin tingle in a way that could only be described as intuition.  
  
Long dark hair pulled into a bun, _check_. Darker skin, _check_. Alternative/hipster vibe, _check_. The only thing remaining was the scar, but she hadn’t gotten a good look at his face. Her suspect plopped into a bench facing away from her.  
  
She took a deep breath and marched forward.  
  
—  
  
Iruka was leaning his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped between them, lost in thought. Kakashi hadn’t come to class again. As much as it would have annoyed him (and probably hurt his heart) to see Kakashi, he didn’t want him flunking out of class either just to avoid him. Maybe it was too self-centered to think he was the sole reason for skipping, but what else could it be? Was something else going on?  
  
Iruka scoffed at himself. It really wasn’t his place to care or worry… so why was he?  
  
He drooped his neck, closed his eyes, and rubbed at his forehead. Headaches were becoming a daily occurrence.  
  
“Iruka?” came a girl’s questioning voice. It sounded far away, he was so tired, but when he lifted his head, she was right in front of him. She was tiny, with deep red hair that faded into orange.  
  
“I’m s-sorry,” Iruka said, clearing his throat. He didn’t recognize her, but there was something vaguely familiar about her. “Do I know you? This is really not a good time…”  
  
If this was someone inquiring about the Zoology Club or something, he wasn’t in the mood.  
  
“Um, no,” she bit her lip. “But I know you. I’m Rin. Kakashi’s sister.”  
  
Iruka took her in with wide eyes. She had the same pale skin; her eyes were the same shape and color. He saw the resemblance now that the connection was made, although her face was much more expressive.  
  
_Kakashi had a sister? That went to their school?_ If he wasn’t feeling so dejected, he would have laughed at just how little he knew about Kakashi. It didn’t seem fair, knowing next to nothing about the person who had turned his life completely upside down.  
  
But how did she…?  
  
“My scar,” he scowled.  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“That’s how you identified me.”  
  
It bothered him when people did that. He was comfortable with his scar, had accepted it as part of his face a long time ago, but it wasn’t who he was. There were so many other ways people could describe him.  
  
“O-oh,” Rin’s face flushed hot. “Yes, b-but it’s not like that—,” she stumbled “I only know about it because he spoke of it in reference to his own.”  
  
Something about that statement made Iruka soften.  
  
“I’m sorry to ambush you like this, but my brother and I are close. And I know he’s put you through a lot.”  
  
_That was putting it mildly,_ Iruka thought. He wanted to give her one of his famous, confidence-shattering glares, that sent people away in a scurry, but he was curious about what she had to say, having obviously sought him out. None of this was her fault, anyway.  
  
“Kakashi and I, we’ve… we’ve been through a lot over the past few years. Kakashi more than me.” Rin looked away, her eyes watering, which Iruka noted with a faint drop in his stomach. “And um, I’m not trying to make excuses for him, and I know it’s not your job to put him back together or anything but please—please don’t give up on him. You…” It looked as if she was calculating what to say next. “You mean a lot to him,” she said quietly, looking at her feet.  
  
Iruka’s heart skipped at the words. He didn’t know how to take this information. Part of him was elated, but another part of him wanted to lash out at her. Deny it. Say that there’s no possible way he could mean a lot to Kakashi, the way things were going. But at the same time… the only way she could know that, is if Kakashi had confided in her.  
  
But that still left…  
  
“And Obito?” Iruka asked, swallowing his pride. “What does he mean? To Kakashi?”  
  
“Obito is a parasite. Sucking the life out of it’s host,” she said without hesitation, her face having set into something dangerous. Iruka was shocked by the venom in her voice.  
  
Rin took her phone out of her pocket and glanced at him.  
  
“I’m really sorry, I have to go. I’m already late. It was nice to meet you, finally. Kakashi talks about you a lot. I really hope to see you again, Iruka.” She turned to leave, but after a few steps, she turned around again.  
  
“Um, would you mind…not mentioning this to my brother? He, uh, he’s a really private person and—,” she swallowed nervously. “He doesn’t know I’m here.”  
  
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”  
  
“Thanks,” she smiled. “Bye.”  
  
She gave a small wave and went on her way.  
  
Iruka watched her go, his mind whirring with their conversation, trying to connect all the dots.  
  
Okay, so, Obito was an asshole, that much he already knew. Kakashi’s sister clearly disapproved. But if their relationship was so bad, why were they still together?  
  
Iruka looked down to examine his hands, picking at a callous on his palm.  
  
RIn had said ‘we’ve been through a lot,’ and ‘we’ refers to them as a unit, as siblings. Maybe something happened in their family? Iruka was rudely reminded about how little he knew about Kakashi again.  
  
He brought his knees up, resting the soles of his shoes on the edge of the bench, racking his brain through the past couple months, sorting through all the conversations and interactions with Kakashi since they met, looking for details he may have missed or not noticed. Iruka closed his eyes again, as Kakashi’s voice rang throughout his head:  
  
  
_“No. Iʼd be a terrible therapist. I guess I just wanted to try and better understand how the human mind works.”_

  
_“Why do people actively choose things, repeatedly, that they know are bad for them? It’s the same thing, right? Like this…cognitive dissonance.”_

  
_“So, theoretically, if I did a bunch of terrible shit in my past lives, then the terrible shit I experience in this life, are a result of all the negative karma I’ve accumulated. Am I right so far?”_  
  
_“I don’t know. I like you, Iruka. I’m... I’m attracted to you, alright? I wanted to be around you.”_  
  
_“It’s just… things... things with Obito… it’s complicated…”_  
  
_“Iruka. Can we not make this harder than it needs to be? Talk to me.”_  
  
_“You told me to stop calling you, so I did,”_  
  
_“It’s not that easy, Iruka. There’s so much—we’re not even—can we just—,”_  
  
Iruka pinched at the bridge of his nose. In reality, Kakashi had tried a few times to tell him about Obito, or at least explain who he was, but Iruka had shut him down every time.    
  
Fucking Obito.  
  
_“He’s been a little bitch lately. I can’t keep up with his bipolar ass.”_

  
Iruka would never forget how he felt when he heard Obito talking about Kakashi like that. To make it even worse, it came from someone who was _supposedly_ Kakashi’s boyfriend.  You don’t talk like that about someone you _supposedly_ care for.

  
Something was off.

  
Iruka glanced at a couple holding hands as they passed by.

  
There was another thing Iruka wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon, or for the rest of his life, if he was being honest— the way Kakashi had looked at him, before they kissed on his kitchen counter, the night they were both high off their ass. It made his heart rate spike, just thinking about it.

  
That’s not something you can fake.

  
_But what if he’s your soulmate? Your one true love? You can’t let that go._  
  
Iruka laughed at his cousin’s words. He didn’t know if they were _soulmates_ , but the one thing Iruka had been trying to do, was let Kakashi go, and it was becoming very clear that he couldn’t do that.  
  
Iruka stood up and adjusted his cardigan. It was time to seek out Kakashi for an honest conversation, _without_ anger. Or at least better controlled anger that didn’t make him close off and flee on the spot. But first, he wanted some advice. Something told him that Obito wasn’t someone to cross. He could think of only one person who might be capable of doing it.  
  
—  
  
Iruka couldn’t tell you what possessed him to walk to the art department building, but here he was, and there _he_ was, just like he guessd. Deidara was sitting on a stool with a wheel between his legs, spinning pottery in a pair of clay and paint speckled light wash overalls, cuffed above his boots. One of the straps was unbuckled, revealing a tight, white Lady Gaga t-shirt, that had been snipped into a crop top. The collar had been cut off too, causing it hang off his shoulder.  
  
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Deidara smirked, huffing a stray piece of hair away from his face that had escaped his thick braid. Iruka reached out and pushed it behind his ear for him, considering Dei’s hands were covered in wet clay.  
  
“Careful, honey. Do that again and watch me fall in love with you.” Deidara pressed his pink, sparkly, doc marten boot onto the pedal before standing up and walking to the sink.  
  
“What can I do for you? Have you come to cash in on that blowjob?” Deidara teased. “I’ve got a new addition that might please you.” He slid his tongue out through his teeth to reveal a turquoise titanium barbell, before flicking it back in.  
  
Iruka blushed profusely, sputtering for a few seconds.  
  
“God, you’re cute,” Deidara smirked. “The shy ones always are.”  
  
“I, um,” Iruka attempted to clear his throat but it came out as more of a cough. “I wanted to ask you something.”  
  
Deidara wiped his hands down his overalls before stretching his arms along the length of the stainless steel sink. “Ask away,” he said, flashing him a brilliant white smile.  
  
“It’s about Kakashi.” Deidara’s eyes narrowed. “I was wondering if you could tell me about Obi—“ Deidara squawked, clapping a damp hand over his mouth. He pulled Iruka into the utility closet and shut the door to some rather rambunctious hoots and hollers.    
  
“Wha—“ Iruka began.  
  
“You can _not_ come in here asking something like that,” Deidara said, pulling the light on so forcefully, the metal chain swung and hit Iruka in the face when he let go.  
  
“I don’t under—,” Iruka began, steadying the chain.  
  
“No. You _don’t_ understand. Obito’s got ears all over this place. He lives and works just as much here, as he does in the theater department. You clearly don’t know Obito at all, because only an _idiot_ would come here asking about Kakashi.” Deidara said, pushing Iruka on the chest, startling him completely.  
  
Deidara flicked his long bangs out of his eyes before audibly sighing in relief.  
  
“Well, now that that scorn is over with,” he smiled, quirking his eyebrows suggestively at Iruka, “What’s this about Kakashi? You know him?”  
  
“I—uh—well—we…” Iruka fumbled nervously, feeling a blush creep over his skin. God this was embarrassing.  
  
Deidara sucked in a long, dramatic, high-pitched gasp; his big, pale blue eyes, bugging out even further.  
  
“It’s _you_ , isn’t it?!” he said, poking a hard finger into Iruka’s abdomen.  
  
_“What?”_  
  
“Oh dear _lord_ ,” Deidara groaned. “This is terrible. Fantastic, but terrible.” he exclaimed, clutching the fabric of Iruka’s shirt dramatically.  
  
Iruka had _no_ idea what was going on, but he should try and explain himself at least…  
  
“Well, I guess to start with, Kakashi and I met—,”  
  
“Ugh, _shut up,_ will you? We can’t talk about this here,” Deidara said, flattening his hand against Iruka’s abs, before curling his fingers a bit. Iruka looked down at his hand, amused.

”Coping a feel?”

“Woops. Got carried away. This atmosphere,” Deidara grinned, waving a hand around at the cramped utility closet, before reaching up and pulling Iruka’s hair band so it wasn’t so tight. “You’ve gotta look the part or no one will believe we fucked, darling.” Deidara said, in response to Iruka’s questioning eyes.  
  
“We what now?”  
  
“Just go with it. I’m a picky bitch, you should feel honored," Deidara said, disheveling Iruka's clothes. "Although I would have much rather _done_ the deed…”  
  
Deidara gave him a look of satisfaction, and went to push him out of the closet, but Iruka stopped him.  
  
“Wait, what the hell is going on? Why do we have to pretend anything?” Iruka asked, feeling absolutely ridiculous, and slightly annoyed.  
  
“We don’t _have_ to pretend, I’m perfectly willing…”  
  
Iruka glared at him, which only earned him a sweet smile in return.  
  
“… _Because_ my housemate Yahiko is out there—the rather charming looking ginger with a zillion facial piercings, you’ll see him—and if he thinks we came in here to talk privately, and not fuck around, he’ll call Obito up in two seconds flat. Now get your fine ass outta here so we can actually go talk somewhere privately.”  
  
Iruka left the closet absolutely mortified, feeling highly exposed and put on the spot by the industrial lighting. He tried to avoid everyone’s eyes, especially Yahiko’s— _charming, my ass_ —as Deidara puttered about, grabbing his things, before taking Iruka by the hand and leading him out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HURRAY! A respite from the bullshit.
> 
> Several of you called it--there needed to be an intervention. Tenzo & Rin ftw. (rhyme completely unintentional)
> 
> Thanks to tea (gloomier) for helping me with a line of dialogue, otherwise I'd still be staring at my document, cursing it.
> 
> I'm going to run away with Deidara now, BYE. <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a challenge for me to write, for many reasons. I’m sort of nervous to post it! 
> 
> There’s a performance in the last scene to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWZHqkbYC54/). If you want the full experience, I suggest listening to it (even if you don’t speak the language!)
> 
> I’d like to dedicate this chapter to D.M.Davidson, who left me such a heartfelt review on the previous chapter, that it kicked my butt into gear to finish this. It did wonders, thank you. 
> 
> I apologize for any formatting problems in advance. It was tricky... you’ll see why. 
> 
> Without further ado.... please enjoy.
> 
> CW: mentions of blood; recounting of a hate crime.

Iruka was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for Deidara to bring around his car. They were transporting two crates of heavy pottery with them, both of which were resting near Iruka’s feet. Iruka fixed his hair, slid his hands into his pockets, and rocked back on his heels, slightly anxious to be hanging out with Deidara in public. He was worried about Kakashi catching him, though highly unlikely, despite there being  nothing to be caught doing. Iruka was allowed to make friends, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, and if they happened to have Kakashi in common, so be it. 

Deidara whipped around the corner in a white Volkswagen beetle, blasting a pop song Iruka vaguely recognized. 

“Get in, bitch!” Deidara yelled over the music.

Iruka placed the pottery crates in the back seat, before opening the passenger side door. He stuttered in his step, staring down at his seat in amusement. It had a black cover with the bust of a pastel unicorn, it’s mane a glittering rainbow.

Iruka glanced at Deidara; smiles were pulling at both of their lips.

“You love it.”

“You’re  _so_ gay,” Iruka laughed, shaking his head, before plopping into the seat.

“Thank god for that.” 

 

Deidara ended up taking Iruka to a tiny vegan café located on the top floor of a record store. If it hadn’t been pointed out to him, Iruka would never have known it was there. The stairs to reach the café were located in the back of the shop, through a small hallway that was separated by a purple beaded curtain. Lining the hallway were sex toys galore, and Iruka slunk down in his jacket a bit, as Deidara spun around to flirtatiously wink at him over the multi-colored dildos. 

The café was almost blindingly bright, compared to the low-lit hallway they’d just left. It was flooded with natural light, due to the floor-to-ceiling windows to the right, which faced the street below, and the rest of the town square. 

It was grungy, yet clean. Band posters and art lined the walls. Paint was chipping off the brick, but it only added to it’s character. There was a large bar straight ahead, with a smoothie and pressed juice menu written on a chalkboard. Various LGBTQ flags acted as a backsplash. 

Deidara led them to a table for two. 

“Welcome to my second home,” Deidara said, dropping into his chair. 

“This is so cool,” Iruka said, pulling out his own chair to sit down. “How did I not know this was here?”

Deidara simply shrugged.

“If you know, you know. They like it that way.”

Deidara reached out for the small menus perched between the napkin dispenser and condiments, handing one over to Iruka. 

“You want anything? My treat,” Deidara winked. “The cranberry lemonade is fabulous. Cranberries supposedly make your semen sweeter, according to my last fuckboy, but I never noticed a difference. He still tasted nasty,” Deidara curled his lip, “I could barely swallow it, and I  never spit, which is why we no longer fuck,” Deidara said, ending with a wide smile. “But  you on the other hand, I doubt you need the help. I can already tell you’d be deli—”

“Can I get you two something?”

Iruka thanked the gods for this woman’s timing or he might have got up and ran as far away as possible. He loved Deidara’s shamelessness, but when it was aimed at him, Iruka felt like he’d light on fire from embarrassment alone. Iruka was no prude, but he tended to save it for the people he was intimate with. 

“ _Mei!_ ”  Deidara greeted their waitress, whose long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail that trailed down past her ass. He got up to hug her, before wrapping an arm around her waist. “This is my  gorgeous friend Iruka.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she smiled.

“Mei owns this place with her partner Ao,” Deidara said, turning around to smile at a heavily tattooed man behind the bar, large earrings dangling almost to his shoulders. Ao gave them a small wave while he fed some carrots into the juicer. 

“It’s great,” Iruka said, sincerely. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

“Well, welcome then,” she smiled. “Do you need a minute to decide or…?”

“I designed all the mugs, so if you get something hot, you can press your lips to one of my masterpieces,” Deidara suggested, his eyes sparkling.

Iruka suppressed a laugh and quickly scanned the menu again.

“Um, how’s the pistachio coffee?”

“Incredible,” Mei replied. “It was Ao’s creation. It has a hint of rose and lemon peel. And the oat milk is so creamy, it’ll blow your mind.”

“Or his  _load,_ ”  Deidara said. “Iruka, it’s literally that sensual. Get it.”

Iruka gaped at him. How Deidara could make everything sexual was beyond him.

“Uh, alright, you’ve convinced me.”

“Great! And for you, dear?” Mei asked, placing a gentle hand on top of Dei’s head. 

“The grapefruit kombucha,” he said, removing her hand to kiss her palm. “Could you give us the quinoa cakes with hummus to start, then the jackfruit tacos and kale ceasar salad?”

“Coming right up,” she said, turning on her heel, her hair swishing behind her.

Iruka winced.

“Deidara, I don’t have any money on me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Deidara said, waving Iruka’s concerns away. “I’ve got a sugar daddy.”

Iruka was about to laugh, until he realized Deidara was probably dead serious. He laughed anyway.

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“Thanks, baby.” Deidara flashed him a brilliant smile, as if he couldn’t fathom being given a better compliment. “So, spill. What’s going on? You’ve got the hots for Kakashi?”

Iruka crumpled against his seat. 

“That’s… one way to put it.” 

Iruka tried to sum up the situation as best he could, all the way up to their most recent fight in the parking lot, and Rin approaching him the next day. 

“ _Wow,_ ”  Deidara said, wide eyed, as Mei dropped off their drinks. He quieted in thought for a moment, before he splayed both hands on the table, and leaned forward. “ Wait a second. The night we met,  _and made out,_ ” Deidara smirked, wiggling in his seat. “You were talking about Kakashi? The person you thought you might be involved with?”

Iruka cringed at the memory now, feeling incredibly stupid. That was when he was still unaware Kakashi had a boyfriend. He sighed.

“Yes.” 

Deidara curled one of his hands into a fist and smacked it down on the table. 

“I’m going to  _murder him_ for getting in the way of my one shot with you.”

Iruka cleared his throat, reaching out to fumble with his drink. He took a sip to hide his face, all while Deidara cackled at him.

“I’m assuming you didn’t know about Obito then, considering he was right in front of you and you didn’t panic.”

“Nope,” Iruka said, wiping the foam off his upper lip with the back of his hand. The coffee was  divine.

Deidara fell back against his chair, crossing one leg over the other, his pink boots sparkling against the sun coming in through the windows.

“The gay gossip in me is  _screaming_ _._ If I were a lesser person, I’d be reveling in this drama. What are you going to do?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know if Kakashi’s interested anym—“

“He is.” Deidara cut in, before he could stop himself. 

“What? How do you know that?” Iruka asked, their appetizer being placed on the table.

Whoops. 

Deidara quieted, remembering Kakashi curled up on his bed, drunk off his ass, confessing he was falling in love with someone. Deidara now knew that person was Iruka. He couldn’t tell Iruka though; it was told to him in confidence, and he was fairly certain Kakashi didn’t remember saying it. 

Deidara huffed, annoyed at having to keep silent when he had the perfect opportunity to play cupid. He picked up a quinoa cake, dipped it in the hummus, and crunched on it. He swallowed before speaking.

“Um, hel- _lo_ ,”  Deidara said, gesturing to all of Iruka . “ Kakashi may be an idiot, but he’s not blind.”

“I’d like him to be into me for more than my looks,” Iruka grumbled, taking a long sip from his coffee. He already knew Kakashi found him attractive from that disastrous encounter on his doorstep, the morning after he had kissed Kotetsu at the concert.

“Iruka sweetheart, listen to me. I barely know you, and even I can tell that you’re warm, and kind, and honest. You’re fun, and obviously loyal, since you refused my blowjob on the account of the mere  _possibility_ of being involved with Kakashi. You’re sexy as all hell. You’re everything Obito isn’t, and Obito is everything Kakashi hates,” Deidara twisted the cap off his kombucha. “Obito’s a prick, to tell you the truth,” he said, before taking a long sip.

Iruka raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Obito’s your roommate.”

“And? I don’t owe him any allegiance. We weren’t friends and we still really aren’t. We met because last year I responded to a flyer posted in the art department about a four bedroom house—it’s simply a living situation. We get along fine, but we aren’t close.”

Iruka sighed.

“Then why are they together? What am I missing here?”

“That’s a conversation you’ll have to have with Kakashi.”

Iruka had asked Rin the same question, and she’d given him just as vague of an answer. It was starting to frustrate him. 

“I don’t know everything,” Deidara continued, “but I know enough. Let’s just say that it’s more of a…” Deidara paused, tapping a purple polished finger against his lips. “…a coping mechanism, than a relationship.” 

“That’s…” Iruka began, scrunching his face in dislike. 

“Fucked up, I know. And Kakashi knows it. It’s a vicious cycle he can’t seem to break. My only advice to you, is if you are serious about him, it’s not going to be easy. Kakashi is a better person than he seems, but he’s not at his full potential. From what I’ve gathered, Kakashi hasn’t been in a good spot for a long time. I suggest you try being friends first.  Although it seems you may have already breached that…?” Deidara presumed, the question apparent in his eyes. 

Iruka went to open his mouth but Deidara stopped him by putting a hand out.

“Actually, the less I know the better. I have a big mouth. It’s the worst  and best thing about me, if you know what I mean,” Deidara said, making a show of pushing his tongue into his cheek.

“God, Deidara,” Iruka laughed. “You really don’t hold back.”

“Never.”

Deidara sat on his hands, folding his lips together. Iruka gave him a curious look, as Deidara pattered his feet on the ground, as if it was taking all his strength to keep whatever he was going to say from spilling out of his mouth. 

“…but  god do I want to know. Did you fuck?” 

“What?! _** No. **_ I would never hook up with someone whose in a relationship.”

“Well that makes one of us. Good for you. See?  _Loyal._ ”  Deidara pointed at Iruka ,  before scooping another cake in the hummus and holding it out to him.

“I told you everything. We only kissed once,” Iruka said, taking the cake with a pained expression on his face. “But that was before I knew he was seeing someone.” He bit into the cake; it was delicious, momentarily relieving the stress from his features. 

Deidara let out a loud laugh.

“Oh, please. Don’t beat yourself up. That’s not cheating, honey. I make out with my friends all the time.”

Iruka looked at Dei, dumbfounded. Good thing he wasn’t interested in dating Deidara, because they certainly had different outlooks on relationships.

“Of course it is,” Iruka protested, wiping his hands on a napkin.

“Mmm, to each their own philosophy. But thanks for crushing any hope I had of still being able to make out with you, when you and Kakashi finally get your heads out of your asses. Or I guess the point is to get your heads _in_ each other’s—”

“Deidara!”  Iruka all but yelped.

“Right. Focus,” Deidara said, playfully slapping his own face. “Friends.”

“I don’t know how to go about doing that,” Iruka said, feeling dejected.

“Hm…” Deidara hummed, swirling his finger in the hummus, before licking it off. “Do you have any artistic talent?”

“…what?” Iruka asked, reaching for another cake. 

“Can you sing or play an instrument? Write poetry? Interpretative dance? Strip?”

Iruka chose to ignore that last one.

“Uh, I mean, I write—,”

“I knew it,” Deidara squealed. He rifled in his bag for something, passing the flyer to Iruka when he found it. “I’m hosting a queer variety show next week. Perform something. Invite him.”

Iruka scanned the flyer printed on thick, highlighter pink card stock.

“We’re not exactly on good terms, Deidara…”

And that was putting it lightly. 

“Even better. Let it be the olive branch.” 

Iruka sighed. He supposed this could work…

“Fair warning. Once you’re on Obito’s radar, it will be impossible to get off,” Deidara said, as the rest of their food was dropped off. “Now dig in, darling.”

Iruka willed his appetite to remain after that ominous statement, because it looked and smelled incredible. 

 

—

 

“If you pull that one, it’s definitely going to fall,” Kotetsu teased, as Izumo’s shaky fingers were a centimeter away from the lopsided _ Jenga_ tower.

“Shut up,” Izumo said, curling his fingers back, blushing a little as he laughed. How Kotetsu still had no idea that Izumo was into him was a mystery to Iruka. 

“Come on 'zumo,” Kurenai chided him, “I want my tea, and it looks like you’re about to personally deliver it.”

The loser was treating them all to another round of drinks.

Iruka stared at the fire blazing in the hearth. From his spot on the couch, he could feel it’s warmth on his feet. This had become a Wednesday tradition for them—a bright spot in the middle of the week to relieve the stress of studying. Sometimes they even brought their studying with them. 

Iruka found himself thinking of Kakashi, as he watched the flames lick at the wood. He hadn’t been given an opportunity to hand him the flyer yet, seeing as Kakashi still wasn’t coming to class. He’d been holding out on contacting him, assuming he’d show up eventually. Iruka wanted to do it in person, considering what he wanted to say was inappropriate for a text conversation. But seeing as classes were already over for today, he might not get the chance. Their next class together was on Friday, and that was cutting it too close to Saturday’s event. 

“ _Hello?_ Earth to Iruka.”

“Huh?” Iruka said, blinking up at Izumo.

“I asked you what you wanted to drink.”

Iruka’s gaze shifted to the coffee table, where the _ Jenga_ tower lay in a heap. He was so lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t heard it fall.

“Oh, um, a rooibos chai. Thanks.”

Izumo gave him a concerned look, before heading towards the counter.

“ _Estas bien?_ _”_ Kotetsu asked.

“Yeah, I just… spaced out,” Iruka said, rubbing at his forehead as he readjusted himself on the couch. 

“Well, you have been working yourself thin,” Kurenai said. “He almost didn’t come today,” she turned to tell Kotetsu, pushing Iruka playfully on the shoulder. 

“I _ have_ to work hard. I have double the work, since I’m graduating sooner than you guys and—,”

Iruka stopped, as he saw the familiar shock of Kakashi’s silver hair. His back was to them, as he stirred something into his drink, before walking out the door.

How is it that Iruka never ran into Kakashi, for all of his three and half years here, and now, all of a sudden, he sees him fucking  everywhere?

Iruka felt nauseous. There was no way Kakashi hadn’t seen him. Their small group was hard to miss, taking up the couches in the middle of the coffeeshop, which meant Kakashi had purposely chosen to ignore him. 

Kurenai squeezed his thigh in support.

A moment later, Iruka’s phone buzzed across the table top. He grabbed it and clicked it open. 

A text from Kakashi.

_ Can you come outside for a minute? _

Iruka slipped into his jacket without a second thought.

“I’ll be right back,” Iruka said, eyes locking with Kotetsu, who wished him luck with a look.

 

—

 

Kakashi wasn’t too keen about seeing the guy Iruka had kissed hanging out with him, but if he let it influence his desire to apologize to Iruka, he’d be a fucking hypocrite. He sent the text.

Kakashi lit up a cigarette while he waited, expecting to get a firm  _ no_ _,_ yet holding off from going to his car all the same. Instead, his answer came in the form of Iruka opening the door and stepping outside to join him. 

Kakashi’s heart did a nervous flip in his chest.

Iruka said nothing in the form of a greeting, aside from raising an eyebrow slightly when he brought the cigarette to his lips again. Kakashi didn’t intend to hold onto the habit, he just… needed it. For the time being. The smoke felt like a protective screen, and right now he took comfort in the added security. 

“Please don’t judge me,” Kakashi said, not knowing if he could bear it. His composure was already hanging by a thread. If they started fighting again, he might break. The last thing he wanted to do was fight with Iruka, yet it was all they’ve been capable of doing lately.

Iruka looked taken aback. 

“I wasn’t,” Iruka said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I’m…I’m not.” 

Kakashi immediately felt guilty about the accusation, for creating unnecessary tension between them. He inwardly cursed himself. Not a good start. 

Neither of them said anything for a few long moments. 

“Kakashi,” Iruka began, his breath visible in the cold air. “I wanted to—,"

“Wait,” Kakashi said. “Let me… let me speak first.”

Iruka closed his mouth and swallowed, before giving him a slight nod. 

Even though Kakashi had just volunteered to initiate the conversation, he was finding it difficult to speak again. He took another pull on his cigarette to calm his nerves, and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he forced out, before opening his eyes again. “I’m sorry for not telling you about Obito. I wasn’t trying to fuck with your emotions or lead you on. That wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t expecting our connection to be so quick and so…” 

_ Intense _ _._

Kakashi paused, taking a hard swallow, trying to convey what he meant with his eyes without having to say it. Iruka was giving him a searching look in return, one that said he understood, and knew exactly what Kakashi had failed to vocalize. It gave Kakashi the confidence to continue.

“I’ve got a lot going on. I’m not…I’m not okay,” Kakashi admitted, his hand trembling as he took a final drag from the cigarette, snuffing it out against a metal pole. “But then I met you, and when we were together, all the chaos, all the”—Kakashi hovered his hands on either side of his head— “ _ noise _ _,_ disappeared. I didn’t want to give that up.”

Iruka’s eyes widened, before turning impossibly soft. 

“Even with all the yelling we’ve been doing?” Iruka joked, his voice quiet.

“Even with all the yelling we’ve been doing,” Kakashi confirmed. 

Iruka gave him a tentative, yet warm smile. Kakashi ached to see it at it’s full power again, hit with how much he missed it.

“I didn’t want to ruin it by talking about my fucked up life,” Kakashi continued, gazing out at the street. “I was worried what you’d think of me, but that’s no excuse. It was selfish and stupid and I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”

He took a deep breath before sparing a glance at Iruka again. Kakashi could see something like hope brimming in Iruka’s eyes. He desperately wanted to seal this apology with a kiss, to feel Iruka’s lips on his again, something he’d been craving ridiculously, ever since it happened. But Kakashi knew it wouldn’t be right; he wasn’t ready, and if he ever wanted to have a serious shot with Iruka, he needed to be emotionally ready. He didn’t want to just take what would satisfy him in the moment, despite how strong the urge. He pushed it down and continued. This next part was important, and needed to be said. 

“I… I’m not in any state to be getting involved with someone, but I’d really like to be your friend, Iruka. You’re an amazing person, and I don’t know what you see in me, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about being near you all the time.”

Kakashi realized that last line was uh, not very platonic, but he couldn’t help it. It was tame, compared to the intensity of what he actually felt. 

Iruka bit his lip in obvious contemplation, before he pulled something out of his pocket, and handed it to Kakashi.

“What’s this?” Kakashi asked, looking at the flyer in confusion, before he read it over. 

Oh, this was that variety show Deidara was putting together on Saturday, how did Iruka…

“I’m performing,” Iruka said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You should come. I’d… I’d like for you to come. We can start there.” 

Iruka was performing? Iruka… performed? Kakashi was struck with how little they actually knew about each other, saddened by the thought. Kakashi’s eyes remained on the paper, distraught, until Iruka reached out and grabbed the hand that lay slack at his side. Iruka gave it a brief squeeze before letting go. Something about it made Kakashi want to cry. He wanted to grab Iruka’s hand back, and lace his fingers with his where they belonged. 

“Thank you,” Iruka said, “for apologizing. I’m sorry, too. For… for everything.”

Kakashi gave him a small smile, already forgiving him. 

Silence fell between them again. Iruka shifted his weight on his feet.

“I should go back inside. My friends…”

“Right,” Kakashi said, despite not wanting him to go, but not really having anything else to say at the moment.

Iruka took a few steps backwards.

“See you Saturday?” Iruka asked, placing his hand on the door handle.

“I’ll be there.”

 

—

 

Kakashi slipped into the back of the room, not bothering to lower the hood on his sweatshirt, preferring to blend into the dark. He had texted Iruka earlier today, to ask him what time he went on. He’d responded with around 9, since he was the last performer. Kakashi spared a glance at his watch while a girl was playing a melancholic song on guitar. 8:50. 

He scanned the room, which was _ packed._ Almost every chair was full. People were littered on the floor near the stage. Some were even content standing, leaning against the walls. Much to his surprise, he spotted Rin sitting cross-legged on the ground, suspiciously close to a blonde-haired girl that he was sure had been in one of his classes. He’d have to ask Rin about that later, he thought, while he slid into a spare chair in the last row. 

The girl left the stage to a round of applause, before he saw Iruka stand up from a seat in the front row, climbing his way up the short steps to the stage. Kakashi’s stomach bottomed out at the sight of him. Iruka’s hair was thrown up, but not in it’s usual tight bun. It was big and messy—flirty. But that wasn’t what distracted him the most. It was his  _ legs_ _,_ which were sheathed in sheer black tights, beneath what looked like a pair of black jeans that had been cut at a hard angle into shorts. The oversized burgundy sweater contrasted exquisitely against his dark skin. 

Kakashi shifted in his seat, a blush traveling across the expanse of his body. Aside from Deidara, he’d never seen a man challenge gender norms like this before. And not just any man,  Iruka. There were so many sides to Iruka that Kakashi knew nothing about. It made him feel light-headed. 

“ _ Buenas noches _ _,_ ” Iruka greeted the crowd, his smile flashing bright in the dark. “First, I want to thank Deidara for all his hard work in putting together such an amazing event.”

Kakashi saw Deidara stand up and blow a kiss in Iruka’s direction. 

_ Huh. _

Iruka laughed, before continuing. 

“My name’s Iruka Umino, and uh, I’m going to perform two pieces tonight. The first one is a poem that I wrote a few months ago. I’ve never, um, read it in public before, so I can’t promise I won’t get emotional.” 

A nervous smile graced his lips, and Kakashi felt himself helplessly fall. 

“It’s called First Kiss. I hope you like it.”

Iruka fell silent, bowing his head. After a few seconds, he raised his eyes to the audience and began:

 

“my first kiss was when I was eight  
with a girl   
named Rosa.

It was a compromise  
since neither of us could kiss  
who we wanted 

I asked her how it was  
and she laughed  
said my hair was long enough  
my face pretty enough  
to pretend I was Maria

as for me  
no amount of imagination  
could have transformed her   
into Jacobo

I still wanted the real thing

my first kiss  
was when I was fifteen  
with a boy named René

I was visiting family in Puerto Rico  
spending the summer with my _abuela_  

we were working  
René and I  
our skin kissed tan   
by the sun  
our fingers smelling   
of ripe coffee cherries  
our shoulders aching   
from the heavy weight   
of our baskets

he kissed me after lunch  
his mouth tasting like _malta_  
his body pushing against mine  
as he grinded me into the zinc wall   
of the _almacén_.

that’s how his brother found us  
René’s hand in my jeans  
swapping sounds with our tongues  
mapping territory with our mouths

then a new sound escaped my mouth

a different sound

my kneecaps buckled   
beneath the crushing force   
of a ruthless heel

my back   
hit the dirt  
a fist   
wrapped around my hair  
a voice   
seared across my ear  
accusing me of being too pretty  
too tempting  
assuring me he’d fix that  
the only warning i got  
before a blade cut across my face  
before a blade cut across my hair

i laid there  
blood trickling down my cheeks  
trailing down my neck  
poisoning the sweet touch of lips  
that were pressed there a moment before

I laid there  
until I passed out  
afraid to call my _abuela_  
afraid she’d call me a _maricón_  
and say I deserved it

I was found unconscious by a neighbor

I woke up numb in a hospital bed  
bandages tight against my face  
hair short against my scalp  
swearing I’d never kiss anyone  
ever   
again

well  
I’ve been kissed since then  
when it was raw  
when it was scabbed  
when it was healed

but I still feel as if I’m holding out   
for my first real kiss  
where his thumb will glide across my cheek  
across my scar  
and tell me  
I’m still pretty.”

 

Iruka took a step back from the microphone, indicating he was finished. The room erupted with applause. Iruka wiped at his eyes, as Kakashi stared in complete shock. He finally started to blink, finding his own eyes wet with tears. A million emotions rushed through him at once, making him dizzy. He couldn’t clap, couldn’t bring himself to move a muscle. He felt confused,  _enraged_ _,_ thrilled,  _terrified_ _._ His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he was afraid it might burst. 

“Thank you.  _Muchas gracias,_ ” Iruka said, bringing his palms together in gratitude, when the crowd had started to quiet. “This next one, um, since I’m bilingual, I thought I’d express myself in both languages. When I write, it’s usually in english, but when I sing…  _mi corazan canta en español._ (my heart sings in spanish).”

 _“Metele!_ ”  someone shouted from the crowd, making Iruka smile.

“I’m going to invite my friend Kotetsu up here to help me out,” Iruka said, extending his hand towards someone, who was making his way to the stage.

It turned out to be the guy Kakashi had been seeing around Iruka so much lately,  _Kotetsu_ apparently. He got onto the stage with a guitar and a box drum in tow. He set the drum behind Iruka, while pulling up a chair that had been pushed to the side for himself. 

“I, um, recently experienced a bit of a heartbreak.” Iruka let out a nervous laugh, and it felt like a shot through Kakashi’s heart. “I was a little anxious to sing this in front of him, even though he doesn’t speak Spanish, but I don’t see him here…” Iruka trailed off, scanning the crowd once more.

Kakashi contemplated making himself known, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too mesmerized by Iruka, feeling like if he moved, he’d break the spell.

“…so I guess I don’t have to worry about that,” Iruka said, with a look of disappointment on his face. It made guilt curl in Kakashi’s gut. “Anyway. This song seemed fitting. It’s called  _No Mas Llora_ by Bebe.  _Espero que disfruten_ _._ (I hope you enjoy it.)” 

Iruka sat on top of his drum, and adjusted the microphone. The first few lines were spoken instead of sung.

 

_“He esta'o durmiendo a dos metros bajo tierra_  
_Y ahora he decidi'o dormir sobre la tierra_  
_He pasa'o tanto tiempo lamentando lo que no entendía_  
_Que ahora prefiero que me den la clara del día_

**(I’ve been sleeping six feet under**  
**And now I’ve decided to sleep atop the ground**  
**I’ve passed so much time lamenting what I don’t understand**  
**And now I prefer to be given the light of day [the truth])**

 

Kakashi had heard Iruka speak Spanish once before, when he was ripping him a part in rage. But  this , this did inexplicable things to Kakashi’s heart. The way it rolled off Iruka’s tongue was like music, and he hadn’t even begun to sing yet. 

And then Iruka did start to sing. Acapella at first, harmonizing, before he spread his legs wide—causing Kakashi’s body temperature to  _skyrocket_ —onto either side of the drum. He began to play, accompanied by the soft fingerpicking of the guitar. Kakashi watched as Iruka’s hands alternated between the deep bass in the center of the box, to the snares located at the top corners, marveling at the skill involved to play and sing at the same time. Kakashi got lost in the sound of Iruka’s voice. It was deep, sensual,  _beautiful_ _._ And then the instruments cut out, and Iruka’s voice filled the silence:

 

_“Aprendí a escuchar las noches_  
_No pienso enterrar mis dolores_  
_Pa' que duelan menos_  
_Voy a sacarlo de dentro cerca del mar”_

**(I learned to listen to the night**  
**I’m not thinking of burying my grief/sorrows**  
**So they’ll hurt less,**  
**I’m going to bring them out from within me, near the sea)**

 

The instruments picked up again. 

 

_ “Pa' que se lo lleve el viento” _

** (for the wind to carry them away) **

 

Iruka’s voice increased in volume for the next stanza, getting increasingly louder until he was almost shouting. Kakashi watched his throat move, his head thrown slightly back from the intensity of it, the muscles in his neck straining against the power of his voice. Kakashi licked his lips, wanting to press kisses against the expanse of Iruka’s neck. Wanting to feel the vibration of Iruka’s voice against his lips.

Kotetsu joined in, singing alongside Iruka, and Kakashi’s eyes passed between the two of them. They smiled at each other, playing off each other’s energy.

Kakashi’s heart plummeted. Their chemistry was undeniable. They clearly had a connection. Who was Kakashi to get in-between that? He had caused Iruka so much stress already. He deserved someone who was easy. Who didn’t have baggage. Who was ready to give him what Kakashi couldn’t. Who… spoke his own language, for fuck’s sake. Who could comprehend Iruka in a fit of passion, instead of dumbly replying that he couldn’t understand. 

Iruka’s heart spoke a language that wasn’t made for Kakashi.

 

_“Y hay algunas que nadie jamás quiero que comprendan_  
_Porque son pa' mi na' ma'_  
_Pa' mi corazon, pa' mis pensamientos_  
_Pa' mi reflexión, pa' mi”_

**(and there are some [songs] that I never want anybody to understand**  
**because they’re for me, that’s it**  
**for my heart, for my thoughts, for my reflection, for me.)**

 

If Kakashi wasn’t so entranced by Iruka, he would have got up and left, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. As the guitar died down, all that was left was Iruka. Iruka’s light hits to the drum; his voice lowering into a gentle lilt, caressing Kakashi without actually touching him.

 

_“No sé cuando volveré_  
_No sé donde llegaré_  
_No sé que me encontraré_  
_Ni me importa, no, no"_

**(I don’t know when I’ll return**  
**I don’t know where I’ll arrive**  
**I don’t know what I’ll find**  
**It doesn’t matter, no, no.)**

 

Iruka repeated the last stanza once more, impossibly soft, before the room was eclipsed by silence, only to explode with applause a second later. Some people gave them a standing ovation, and Kakashi used the cover to slip out of the room. He wiped roughly at his cheeks with his sleeve, and stepped out into the night air. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it was such a challenge to write a poem from Iruka’s perspective! 
> 
> !(•̪ o •̪)!
> 
> The performance was the part I was most nervous to write, fearing I couldn’t get it to flow smoothly. I wasn't sure where to insert the translation, or how, and.. yeah! I pray it came out alright.
> 
> I’d love to know any and/or all of your thoughts! Thanks for sticking with me.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://ladyxxdaydream.tumblr.com/)!!


End file.
